Desert Boy
by Crimson virus
Summary: On what was supposed to be a quiet expedition in Diablo Desert, Dr Briefs encountered a young boy. Deciding it was too dangerous for a small five year old to be out here alone, he takes the boy back to Capsule Corp. With no parents to be found, what were the Briefs' to do? A what if scenario where Yamcha was raised by the Briefs. Rated T. Undergoing Rewrite
1. Chapter 1

Seeing West City come into view on the horizon, Dr. Briefs spared a glance at the boy in the passenger seat of his car. The wind whipped through his long, black hair, doing little to hide his face. A small cat rested on his lap, sleeping soundly while the boy stroked her every now and then. The awkward silence was making the air a little too heavy in the Doctor's opinion.

"So… what was a boy like yourself doing out in Diablo Desert?" He asked, taking his eyes off the empty road for a second to look at the child. He looked no older than five. "It's dangerous out there you know."

Silence was the only answer he received, the boy continuing to stare out into the scenery. He refused to meet the Doctor's gaze.

"How old are you, my boy? A kid shouldn't be out here alone." Dr. Briefs asked, only to be met with silence again. This was going nowhere. "Where do you live? I'll be sure to contact you parents and let them know you were-"

"I don't have any parents." The boy interrupted blandly, still refusing to look at the Doctor.

"Oh." The Doctor muttered, at a loss for words. For the next couple minutes, up until they reached West City's limits, the awkward silence hung over them. "Do you have a name?"

"Yamcha." The boy said lowly, resting his chin on his hand.

"Well Yamcha…" Briefs began, but stopped himself. He had a feeling that the boy had had his fill on talking for now. There was no reason to push his luck. He flipped a switch and the roof unfolded back over the car.

Capsule Corp came into view and Dr. Briefs couldn't help but think about how his family would react to their new guest.

* * *

Bulma sat in the front yard of Capsule Corp, playing with her dolls while her mother hung up some wet clothes. She was bored and crabby, having missed her nap after lunch. She had waited for her father to come read to her, but he had gone to the Desert after another scientist informed him of some metals they found or something. Bulma didn't care, she wanted to hear "The little Capsule that Could." for the upteenth time.

Hearing a low hum in the distance, the little girl perked up as her father's car appeared from behind a building. Standing up, the blue haired girl yelled out for her mother to come over. "Dad's back!" She chirped, watching the car pull into the driveway.

Dr. Briefs stepped out of the car, taking a quick puff of his cigarette. Bulma ran into his arms, giggling like a madwoman.

"There's my little Princess." He chuckled, hiking her up and giving her a twirl. Spotting his wife walking towards them, the good Scientist remembered his guest. "Ah, Honey, if you could set out an extra plate during dinner today, that would be great. We'll be having a guest over for dinner."

Panchy nodded, making a mental note before she went back to the laundry. Bulma tilted her head in confusion as her father let her down. "A guest? Who?" Was it one of his associates? She hoped not, they were all old and boring.

"He's right here." Dr. Briefs said, motioning to the car. "You can come out, Yamcha."

Slowly, the young boy, pushed himself out of the car, clutching his sleeping cat and an old looking Tommy Gun for comfort. Upon seeing Bulma though, his face heated up to a bright red, and he quickly retreated behind the car. sweatdropped.

"Who's that, Daddy?" Bulma asked, trying to look around the car, only for Yamcha to maneuver out of her vision again. "Hey! Get back here!"

Briefs watched as his daughter chased the scared boy around the car. Scratching his head, he muttered something about boundaries and outstretched a hand, grabbing Yamcha's arm. He felt the boy tense, and to his surprise, Yamcha threw a punch. It didn't hurt, as the boy was so small, but it certainly caught all three people off guard. Briefs didn't seem fazed, though he wondered what the boy must have gone through for his first reaction being that of violence. Yamcha quickly pulled back his fist, seeming to regret what he had done, and clamped his arms to his side.

"Sorry." He muttered, rocking his cat, whom seemed to be waking up. Briefs was about to tell him there was nothing to apologise for, but Bulma cut him off before he could talk.

Red faced and huffy, Bulma growled at Yamcha. "What's the big idea, jerk? Don't hit my dad."

"Now now, Bulma. It was an accident." Briefs chimed in, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Lord Yamcha?" A small voice called. Bulma and her father paused, their heads slowly shifting over the the small boy. In his arms, the cat had awoken… and spoke. Seemingly not noticing their company, the cat floated up to Yamcha's eye level. "Where are we? Is this the city?"

"Puar…" Yamcha said in a weak voice, glancing at the father and daughter. They were both flabbergasted.

"You're cat can talk!?" Bulma yelled, now mere inches from the Desert boy and his cat. Yamcha gulped at the site of her, taking a set back. The blue haired girl was about to close the distance again, but Puar floated in between them, looking slightly angered.

"Hey! Back away from Lord Yamcha! He doesn't like girls being this close." She spat, though her high voice only made her look cute. Bulma was taken aback, huffing her cheeks full of air.

"Don't talk to me like that!" She growled, with all the fury a five year old could muster. "Don't you know who I am?!"

"No. But you seem like a brat." Puar said, squinting at the blue haired girl. Who does she think she is, making Lord Yamcha uncomfortable and then yelling in her face?

Yamcha and Dr. Briefs shared a look, unsure of what to do. As it looked like there was about to be a fight, Yamcha quickly cupped Puar's body. She seemed to calm down slightly, but still gave a foul glance at Bulma.

Briefs coughed, grabbing the attention of the other three. "Bulma, what have I told you about being rude to guests." He gave no time for his daughter to answer. "Yamcha, this is my daughter, Bulma. Bulma, this is Yamcha."

"Hi Yamcha." Grumbled Bulma, pouting to the side to avoid the Desert boy's eyes. Yamcha gave a quick wave, blushing a little.

"Aw, aren't you adorable!" Arms wrapped around Yamcha, and he was pulled into a tight hug from Panchy. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yamcha. I'm Mrs. Briefs, though you can call me Panchy if you'd like." Yamcha froze, his whole body turning a bright red. Puar was about to give the blonde a piece of her mind, but Dr. Briefs beat her to it.

"Honey, Yamcha here is not used to physical contact. You're making him uncomfortable." He said, taking another puff of his cig. Panchy looked at her husband, then back to Yamcha.

"Oh, my apologies!" She said, letting go of the child. The redness slowly faded from his face, a wave of relief washing over him. "But it is nice to meet you. If you need anything, please just let me know." She said kindly, crouching forward so he wouldn't have to look as high up. The boy gave a quick nod, not used to such hospitality.

"Why don't I show you around, Yamcha? Since you'll be staying for dinner, I'll let you use one of our guest rooms to collect yourself. You can even freshen up a little." Briefs said. Yamcha looked around slightly, taking in just how big Capsule Corp was.

"Oh-okay." He muttered. Briefs led him through the building, silently taking a note on how close the boy stuck to him. Anytime another scientist, especially if they were female, passed by, Yamcha would inch a little closer to the doctor. What had this boy been through?

* * *

Yamcha looked around the bedroom, letting out a breath that had been resting in the pit of his throat. He didn't like this, not one bit. Not the room, but this whole scenario. He wanted to go back to the desert, to get away from all other humans. All he needed was Puar and his Tommy Gun.

"What are we going to do now, Lord Yamcha?" Puar asked, floating beside him.

"We are leaving." Yamcha muttered, spotting a window. He had to leave, he didn't belong here. In a quick step, Yamcha bursted towards the window, formulating a plan for what he'd do once he left. He needed to find a way out of the city. He didn't need to go to the Desert right away, but he needed to be alone with Puar and his thoughts.

Pushing open the window, a cool wind hit his face. It was… nice. While he had gotten used to the desert heat, that dry, hot air was awful.

But this wind wasn't worth staying. He'd find somewhere else with this nice wind.

"What are you doing?" He heard someone say behind him. Turning around, he saw Bulma in the doorway, holding a doll. Yamcha didn't say anything, rather he just stared back. Bulma started to look mad. "Are you leaving?" No response came.

 **CRASH!**

Before he knew it, Yamcha was tackled to the floor by Bulma. Reflexes kicked in again and the Desert boy threw the girl off of him, reaching for the Tommy Gun. His fingers found the grip and… He stopped. Was he really going to shoot a little girl? For what, keeping him from leaving and possibly getting hurt?

Yamcha let his hand fall and rest to his side. He shifted himself away from the window and shimmied towards the door. Bulma was about to yell at him again, but the boy took off down the hall, leaving his Tommy Gun against a nightstand near the door.

"Hey!" Bulma called, chasing after him. Puar stayed, floating by the window, not sure what to do.

"So leaving is a no go now?" She muttered. Still confused, she floated over to the large bed and laid down. "Oh, this is nice~" She cooed, nuzzling into the soft blankets.

* * *

Dr. Briefs had expected his wife to not be completely on board with a guest coming out of nowhere. And as he expected, she wasn't. But to his surprise, she didn't seem angry, but rather concerned.

"Dear, where did you find little Yamcha?" Panchy asked, her usual smile replaced with a small frown.

"In the Desert." Briefs began, his shoulders slumping slightly. "He had tried to rob us with that gun of his, but he had no ammo." Upon seeing his wife tense at the mention of robbery, Briefs continued. "We offered him some food. He seemed surprised, but ate with us anyways. He's a quiet kid, that's for sure."

"But what was he doing in the Desert?" His wife asked, putting the lid back on the pot of stew. "A little kid shouldn't be out there, much less alone."

"I don't know, Sweety. I'm as confused as you are." The Scientist said, twirling the cup of tea in front of him with a spoon. "He said something about not having parents."

"Do you think he's a runaway? Maybe from an orphanage." Panchy asked, taking a seat across from her husband.

"I don't think so. I don't believe that there's an orphanage around that's close enough to the Desert for someone so young to make it there unharmed." He sighed, running through his thoughts again.

"Well, what do you think happened?" Panchy asked.

Briefs let his head hang low for a moment. He had an idea, by it made his blood boil. "I think… I think one of two things happened. Either his parents died somewhere in the desert in some accident, or…" He glared at noone, but his wife could tell he was angry. "His parents didn't want him and left him there to die." The thought made him furious. A parent leaving an innocent child to die.

"O-o-oh." Panchy muttered, wishing she had made herself coffee so she could spit take. "You really think he was left out there?"

"Again, I'm not sure. But it would make sense." Briefs began, not feeling like tea anymore. "It would explain why, if he was left only a couple of days ago, he looked unharmed. If not days, weeks and years. It would still explain his general disdain for other people and his theft attempt. He probably had to steal to survive."

An awkward silence overtook the kitchen, neither spouse wanting to talk about this subject.

"G-get off me!" The couple heard from the living room.

"No! You're not leaving!" Bulma yelled. The Briefs rushed into the living room to see Bulma pinning Yamcha to the ground, the boy's face was burning but he still fought back. Briefs and Panchy were quick to action, grabbing Bulma and prying her off the Desert boy.

"What's going on here?" Dr. Briefs asked sternly, standing in front of Bulma as she sat on the couch.

"He tried to leave!" She yelled, pointing at Yamcha, so was standing quietly in the kitchen as Panchy fetched some tea for him. Briefs looked over his little girl, trying to look for any hint of deception in her. He found none.

"Yamcha?" He asked, looking over to the boy. He had just gotten a cup of tea from Panchy, and he refused to meet the Scientist's eyes. "Did you try to leave?"

"..." Yamcha said nothing, his hair draped over his eyes. His mouth felt dry, and the air that was once cool and pleasant was now heavy with tension. Not meeting the man's gaze, Yamcha gave a small, slow nod.

Dr. Briefs felt his heart sink. He wasn't upset at the boy, but he couldn't help but feel concerned. "May I ask why?" He said, watching the boy with sad eyes.

"..." Yamcha bit his lip. "I-I, I don't know." He lied. He knew why he wanted to leave. But, these people just wanted to be nice and try and help him. He didn't have the heart to tell them. "I-I'm sorry." He squeaked, looking on the verge of tears. He wasn't ready to be in this position. He was so used to only having Puar that talking to others made him confused, anxious, scared. It was overbearing, it was too much. "I."

"Shh, shh. It's okay." Panchy muttered, dropping to her knees and hugging the boy. This time, he didn't tense as much, but he let out a few sniffles. "It's okay." She repeated, stroking his hair.

Bulma looked on from the couch, a bit of guilt stinging at her. Doctor Briefs said nothing, just watching the boy begin to cry with sorrow.

* * *

Puar splashed in the bath water, happy to feel the dirt slowly leave her fur. This was great.

Yamcha on the other hand, stayed perfectly still, letting Panchy scrub the dirt off his back. He didn't remember the last time he had a bath, how nice it felt to be clean. He blinked away a stray tear, his puffy cheeks red from crying earlier.

"Isn't this great, Lord Yamcha?" Puar asked, nudging up against him. Her soft fur helped Yamcha relax a bit, the familiar feeling letting his muscles loosen up.

"Yeah." He muttered dryly.

"Alright, Yamcha dear, I'm done." Panchy said, grabbing a towel from under the sink. "Are you ready to get out, or would you like to stay in a bit longer?"

"I'm ready to get out." Yamcha muttered, standing up, making sure to not splash Puar too much. He felt a warm cloth enclose his torso, followed by the towel rustling as Panchy dried him off. After a minute or so, he was completely dry.

"All clean. Come on, let's go get you some warm clothes." The mother said, holding out a hand for Yamcha to take. He did.

Now dressed in some spare pajamas that once belonged to Tights before she went to study with her Aunt, Yamcha sat on his bed. The clothes were a little big… and meant for a girl to wear, but they worked for now.

The boy stared out the window, watching the sun set behind a bunch of tall buildings. It must be around six, as Spring had just set in. The days would only get longer.

A knock at the door drew his attention from the window. Bulma stood there again, looking conflicted. She carried herself stiffly, but her eyes looked a little annoyed.

"Mom wanted to let you know that dinner was ready." She said, not meeting his gaze. "So… come and eat, or what ever."

* * *

 **MUNCH CHOMP GOBBLE!**

The Briefs family looked on in amazement as Yamcha tore into his bowl of stew, devouring it with ease. This had been his third bowl. Panchy was smiling, happy that the boy found her cooking so great. Dr. Briefs took mental notes about the boy suffering from potential malnutrition before. Bulma. Bulma was just trying not to be too disgusted with the boy's lack of manners. Puar said nothing, preferring to nibble on her small plate of beef instead.

Yamcha put down the now empty bowl, breathing heavily. "Thank you." He said, before noticing that all eyes were on him again. He shrunk back into this seat, averting his eyes.

"I should thank you, Yamcha dear." Panchy began, grabbing the boy's bowl to put in the sink. "No One's ever been that happy to eat my cooking." She chuckled, moving back over to the table and sitting down. "If you ever want me to make you something, just let me know." Yamcha gave a quick nod, the promise of such good food overshadowing the nervousness he was feeling.

Bulma scowled, a hint of jealousy starting to boil in her stomach. This kid was taking all the attention! She wanted to glare at him, but with her parents present, that idea was out the window. Deciding that looking around was a better use of her energy, she noticed the cloak. It was now six thirty. Perking up, Bulma beamed.

"Thank you for dinner, Mommy!" She said, hopping down from her chair and running out of the kitchen. It was time for cartoons!

Yamcha watched her leave, confused at the sudden shift in her mood. Dr. Briefs chuckled, looking at the entrance to the living room.

"Guess it's time for her shows." He smiled. "Why don't you go watch them with her, Yamcha?"

"Huh?" The boy froze, nervousness washing over him. He didn't like being near Bulma, she made him nervous. Stupid girls! He'd much rather follow Dr. Briefs or Panchy around, they were far more interesting.

...But not wanting to be rude, Yamcha nodded, getting up and making his way to the Living room. Bulma sat on the rug in front of the TV, her eyes glued to the screen. Not wanting to go near her, Yamcha settled for sitting on the couch.

He didn't pay much attention to the cartoon, it really wasn't interesting. Instead, his thoughts lingered back to the desert. He wanted to go home, he didn't want to be here. He _needed_ to get back, they might be there to get him.

A knot formed in his stomach as he thought about the sands that he called home. What if they were there, looking for him, ready to bring him home? His heart sank at the thought. He really had to leave.

But a part of him chastised himself for wanting to leave. He wanted to go back, but he didn't as well. He wanted to feel the sand under his feet, the rush of the wind in his hair. But… did he really believe they would come back? It's been two years.

The memory of his parents were blurry from age. He remembered the basic structure of them, but the details just weren't there. He wished Puar was here to talk to, but the cat had wanted to eat some more.

"What's wrong with you?" Bulma's voice pulled him from his inner turmoil. She stared at him with annoyance. "Stop staring at me, weirdo." Yamcha looked at her, tilting his head slightly as the dots connected.

He said nothing, but waved a sorry in her direction. Bulma seemed to accept it, returning her attention back to her shows.

Yamcha got up from the couch, heading for the front door. Bulma called out for him, but he ignored it. Before the blue haired child could respond, the boy was out the front door.

"Not again." Bulma groaned, springing up and giving chase. Barrelling out the door, Bulma scanned the yard for the black haired weirdo. "Where did he go?" She muttered, half tempted to leave the yard to look. She quickly discarded the idea, knowing how angry her parents would get.

Eventually, at the point where she had almost given up, Bulma found her family's guest. He was sitting under a tree, watching the moon. Moonlight shines off his black hair, and she blushed.

Being as quiet as possible, she stalked up behind the boy, fully intent on telling him off for being so stupid.

"Do you think my they're waiting for me out there?" Yamcha said, not shifting his body in the slightest. Bulma did a double take, surprised to have been found out so quickly.

"Who are they?" She asked, taking a seat next to the boy. He didn't seem tense like before, but she could still notice a faint blush on his cheeks.

"My Mom and Dad." Yamcha said. "Do you think they're out there somewhere, looking for me?" He turned to look at Bulma, observing her reaction.

Her nose wrinkled a little as she pondered the question. "I don't know. Maybe?" She said, feeling defeated. She was smart for her age, but she was still five. She wasn't ready for questions as important as this. "When was the last time you saw them?"

"About two years ago, almost three." Yamcha said. Bulma's jaw dropped.

"Three years!?" She yelled, before Yamcha shushed her. Giving a quick 'sorry', she found her composure. "That's a really long time."

"Yeah, it is." The Desert child said quietly. "But they would still want me right?"

"I-I." Bulma began, not knowing what to say. A shot of anger burned at her stomach. "Those, those buttheads."

"Huh?" Yamcha said, looking at her again. She stood up, balling her fists.

"They left you for three years." She spat, gritting her teeth. "Those low life-"

"Hey! Those are my parents!" Yamcha barked, standing up to meet her eye level.

"And? They left you for almost your whole life! Why would you want them to look for you?" Bulma said.

Yamcha was quiet, taking in what the girl had said. "..." His head fell. Bulma sank back a little, regret replacing her frustration. "I guess you're right." Yamcha fell onto his rear. "What do I do then?"

"What?" Bulma asked.

"Where do I go then?" Yamcha said, looking back up at the girl. "What do I do?"

Bulma was quiet. She didn't know. For Kami's sake, she was five! "You, you can stay with us!" She blurted out the first idea that came to her. "I think, anyway. It's my parent's call." She said, scratching the back of her neck.

Yamcha stayed silent, but nodded his acknowledgement. He didn't want to accept the idea that his parents didn't want him, and a big part of him didn't. After all, all parents loved their children more than the world… right?

"Can, can you not tell your parents about this talk?" He asked. He didn't want to make them worry about him more, he could tell they already did. Guess living in the Desert makes you more receptive to the small things.

Bulma nodded, extending out her hand. "I won't. As long as you stop being a stick in the mud, it will be between us." She said, balling her fist, save for her pinky. "Pinky promise." Yamcha looked at her hand confused. The little girl deadpanned. "This means that we will never break our promise." She explained.

"Oh, okay." Yamcha mumbled. He poked out his pinky and Bulma wrapped her pinky around his.

Yamcha didn't really know what to say after that, but for the first time in a while, he felt himself smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning! This chapter deals with some heavier subjects.**

* * *

Yamcha didn't remember exactly what happened after he made that promise with Bulma. One minute they were making their way back to the house, the next he felt a little tired, and lastly, he woke up in a soft bed, sunlight shining in his eyes. It must have been morning.

Looking around, it became apparent that he was in a guest room. Warm and fuzzy blankets wrapped him in a cocoon. He felt a small pressure on his chest, which turned out to be Puar.

The boy laid still, taking in and processing the events that unfolded the past day. Part of him yearned for the desert, trying to keep the idea of his parents searching the globe for him alive. Another part, rather quiet in comparison, wanted to abandon the idea of Diablo, to find another remote area, one where he could live alone with Puar with better conditions than that old sandy hell.

The last part of him, while not as strong as the first, told him that he _had_ to stay, that his parents didn't care about him. That he shouldn't abandon the chance to finally have a family.

 _ **Family…**_

The word hurt, it stung the deepest parts of Yamcha's brain. He could feel a line of wetness trickle over his cheek. He blinked it away, refusing to break, not ever again… But that would be a hard goal. Being in the desert, blinded by his drive for salvation, Yamcha never had time to think about himself. But now that he was here, in Capsule Corp, surrounded by people that seemed to, maybe not care for him personally, but for at least his safety and well being, he realised it.

He was a broken child. One that had scars and issues that might never heal. One with a guilt complex that blamed himself for his parent's neglect.

The boy scowled, tears falling freely from his eyes. But it wasn't just from sadness and confusion this time, no. Now they were tears of determination. He refused to be a broken child. He was going to work past his… well past. He would get better! He would-

 _Grrr-_

… He would work on all that after taking a tinkle.

* * *

Panchy hung outside Yamcha's room, hesitating to enter. The boy had been out like a light on the couch last night. A small part of her wondered his he was having a nightmare. The poor boy.

Shaking her thoughts aside, the mother pushed the handle down with her hip, not wanting to drop the plate of pancakes in her hands. Pushing the door open slightly as to not startle the boy, Panchy entered to room.

"Yamcha, dear, I made you some breakfast." She sang, before halting. She saw Yamcha in the corner, facing away from her… His pants down… Peeing into the potted plant… "Umm, dear?" She asked, averting her eyes.

Yamcha looked over his shoulder at the lady and gave a half hearted "Hello", before turning his attention back to the plant.

"May I ask, what are you doing?" Panchy asked, setting the pancakes down on the nightstand.

"I had to tinkle." Yamcha said. "One second, I'm almost done."

Panchy looked at the young boy with wide eyes, confused beyond all belief. "Why aren't you using the bathroom?" Yamcha turned his attention to her again, his pee stream slowing down as he was about done.

"What's a bathroom?" He asked, looking as confused as Bulma was on her first Christmas when she learned of Santa. Panchy almost face planted, grabbing onto the nightstand to balance herself.

* * *

"So when I have to pee, I go in here?" Yamcha asked, staring at the toilet in front of him. Panchy nodded, giving him a small, yet still warm smile.

"Yes, Deary." She said. "You also should use the toilet when you have to poop." It felt weird having to explain this again, especially to a five year old. It reminded her of when Tights and Bulma were potty trained.

"Wow, a room dedicated to peeing." Yamcha said in amazement. "Back in the desert, I just went outside my base. The rolling sands always covered it after."

Panchy sweatdropped, giving a small smile. This boy had a lot to learn.

* * *

Yamcha sat at the kitchen table, devouring his plate of Pancakes. Puar sat next to him, eating her own plate of smaller pancakes. Mr and Mrs Briefs ate with them, the scientist sipping some orange juice. But, someone was missing.

"Where's Bulma?" Yamcha asked, looking around. He had wanted to talk to her some more. Despite his fear of women, something about her felt different. He was still nervous, but he enjoyed her company last night. She was someone he could talk to, though he still felt he didn't know her long enough to confide to her again.

"She's off at school." Briefs said, all the while scribbling the word "coffee" on a shopping list. "She'll be there until around three."

"School?" Yamcha asked, putting his fork down on the now empty plate. Puar floated up onto her friend's shoulder.

"I think that's where people go to learn, Lord Yamcha." She said, trying to remember the last time she'd heard that word.

"To learn? Oh, like to fight?" Yamcha asked, his face brightening. That would make training a lot easier if there was someone to help.

"No, not to learn, my boy." Briefs said, taking a sip of his juice. "At school, you learn about things like math and writing." Yamcha scowled.

"That doesn't sound as fun as training." He muttered, resting his chin on his head in disappointment.

"Why would you want to fight, Deary?" Panchy asked, watching the boy poke around his fork. Puar puffed out her chest, looking proud.

"Lord Yamcha wants to be the strongest around!" She chirped pridefully. Panchy and Dr. Briefs tensed.

"For what reason, if you don't mind me asking?" The Scientist asked, a lump forming in his throat. He had a feeling that he already knew the answer. Yamcha paused, tapping his finger against his chin.

"Uh, I don't know." He said. "I think my-" He cut himself off, his mood darkening. The married couple said nothing, concern forming in their guts. "My dad." Slumping in his chair, he contemplated if he wanted to tell them or not. No, he should. They had every right to know for taking care of him. "H-he used to be a martial artist, I think." The boy struggled to remember his father, but couldn't remember anything concrete. "I guess I always wanted to get stronger to be like- like him." He wasn't sure if that was what caused him to want to be strong, the details just weren't there anymore.

A short silence followed. Yamcha continued to play with his fork, while Puar patted his head to comfort the boy. Briefs looked around the room, looking for something to kill the silence. His eyes rested on the shopping list and a lightbulb appeared above his head.

"Oh, Honey!" He said, giving a small wave of his hand. "Why don't you take Yamcha to the mall so he can get some clothes."

Panchy's face lit up, and she smiled. "That's a great idea!" She chirped. She turned her attention to Yamcha, who seemed to have gotten out of his funk, now looking curious. "Yamcha, Deary! How does that sound? Would you like new clothes? I imagine that Tights' clothes aren't the best fit for you."

Yamcha peered down at his pink outfit, a set of pink and purple pajamas. He could go for something… actually anything else. "That sounds nice." He said.

"Perfect!" Panchy smiled. "We can leave after lunch."

* * *

Bulma yawned a little as she sat at the large table, other kids to her left and right. She barely paid attention to what the teacher said, she knew all of it anyways. She sighed to herself. This was more boring than it usually is. She didn't want to be here! She wanted to talk to Yamcha! The boy was one of the few people she talked to that didn't eat their own boogers or have a stick up their butt.

Thinking back, she had been a little too quick to label the boy as a stick in the mud. Having to listen to some of the other snobs talk, she quickly remembered what boring actually was.

"Bulma, do you know the answer?" She heard the teacher ask. Looking up, she quickly scanned the board and mentally face palmed.

"Two." She said blandly. Really? One plus one? She had known that since preschool. Probably a perk of having your father be a scientist.

"Good job." The teacher said, turning his attention back to the board. "Now-"

Bulma drowned the rest of the man's speech out, scribbling out the blueprints for a box fort on her snack napkin.

* * *

Sticking as close to Panchy as he could, Yamcha nervously took in the sights. The city was filled with people, more than he could count, so at least ten. It was a lot more than ten though. He didn't like it.

"I wish Puar was here." He muttered under his breath. His best friend had to stay at Capsule Corp, something about people not taking a talking, floating cat well. The boy huffed. People are stupid, than!

"What was that, Deary?" Panchy asked, looking down at the boy.

"Nothing." Yamcha sped out, being slightly caught off guard. "I just… the city is really big." He said, changing the subject. Colorful cars drove past, the occasional honk ringing the boy's head. He didn't like all this noise. It was annoying.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it." The mother said, patting Yamcha's head. Most would have found the action rude and demeaning, but the desert child found it comforting. It was what Puar would do back in Diablo when he got an injury.

"Okay." He said, almost flinching as a man in a suit rushed past his, yelling a "Sorry" and something about being late for work. Yamcha watched the man go, noticing a scar along his cheek. His eyes lit up and he balled his hands. "So cool."

The duo quickly found themselves in the mall, and Yamcha stared, both in intimidation and in awestruck. It was so huge on the inside! People walked around, entering or exiting a shop now and then.

Panchy gave a light tug on his arm, and pointed towards a shop. Something was above it, a bunch of shapes that he assumed were words. "What does that say, Mrs. Briefs?" He asked, pointing at the shapes.

"That's the shop's name. It says 'Kakarot'." Panchy said. "It's a clothing store for kids. And please, I told you you can call me Panchy." She said, giving Yamcha a warm smile.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking away. He froze. He hadn't noticed it before, but there were so many pretty women here! His face heated up, and Panchy had to pull him into the store.

Clothes of many sizes and colors were hung up around the store. Plain shirts, striped ones, all that jazz.

"Is there anything that catches your eye, Deary?" Panchy asked, leeding the boy around the shop. There wasn't much that got the boy's attention. He picked out a couple of shirts and pants, but only because he'd need them rather than being visually appealing. "How about this one?"

Yamcha turned from rummaging through a couple plain coats to see what Panchy had picked. Upon seeing the clothing, his eyes lit up.

It was a dark green t shirt with a white circle in the middle that was outlined in red. In the white circle, a picture of a wolf's head was stitched. Yamcha really liked wolfs. The ones he saw in the desert were awesome. He frantically nodded his acception.

* * *

The way back to Capsule Corp was a quiet one. Neither Panchy or Yamcha said much, the blonde happily carrying the bags of clothes, and the raven haired child munching on a sandwich he got from the mall's food court. Rounding a corner, the duo passed by an alley.

Something grabbed Panchy's arm, but before she could do anything, a hand covered her mouth. With a muffled scream, she was thrown against a wall. She felt something cold press up against her throat.

A hooded man held her at knife point. His clothes were dirty, his breath stank, and his teeth were slightly yellow. "Listen here Lady. Here's how this is gonna go down." He began. "You're gonna hand over any money you've got, see? You make one wrong move and you're dead."

Panchy, eyes wide and pupils small, nodded.

"Panchy?" She heard Yamcha call. Her throat dried as more fear set in. Struggling against the man, she was able to push him off her slightly. Thinking fast, she bit down on the mugger's hand. He howled in pain, moving his hand.

"Yamcha! Run!" She yelled to the boy. He stood at the entrance of the alley, frozen in place.

"You bitch!" The mugger growled, slapping Panchy to the floor. The mother cried out in pain. Looking over her, the mugger turned his attention to Yamcha. "Scram kid, if you know what's good for you."

Yamcha didn't move from the spot. He was trembling, his pupils small as dots.

"Yamcha?" Panchy muttered.

* * *

He was in the desert, the sandy wind whipping at his face. His breath was shaky as he tensed at the beast in front of him. A big Diablo Hound stared him down, it's fangs grinding against themselves.

Puar laid in the sand, unconscious and bleeding. The wild wolf had ambushed them, intent on making them it's new meal.

"Puar." Yamcha muttered, shaking in fear. "You hurt her." He said, meeting the eyes of the beast.

It snarled, pouncing at the boy. Reflexes kicked in and Yamcha dodged to the side. The beast was too big to go head on against. He needed to think smart.

The wolf barreled at him again, swiping at him with a clawed paw. The desert child ducked, swiping at their feet. The beast toppled over, its head bouncing off the sand. With a roar, Yamcha kicked them in the stomach.

The wolf howled in pain. It thrashed Yamcha off, ramming him into a nearby rocky mountain wall. He groaned through gritted teeth, flinging himself to the side as the wolf make a bite for his neck.

"Go away!" He screamed, slamming his fist into the monster's head. It stammered back. Yamcha wasn't done though. He charged the beast, swinging another fist into its face. One of its fangs flew from its mouth, landing in the sand nearby.

Before Yamcha could react, the wolf was back up and pissed.

 **CRASH!**

Yamcha was back up against the wall, air knock from his lungs. The wolf slashed at him over and over, drawing blood from the boy's shoulder as a claw skimmed it.

He screamed in pain as the wolf sank a claw into his shoulder. The pain, it hurt so bad…

But he couldn't fail Puar, not now!

With strength he didn't know he had, he forced the Wolf off him, decking it in the side. He grabbed the beast, twirling around and slamming it into the mountain side. He grunted as he felt a claw in his should. It must have broken off.

He grabbed it, suppressing a scream, and pulled it out. Gripping the claw as tight as he could, he thrusted it into the monster's side. It roared in pain, blood spraying from the new wound.

"Go!" Yamcha screamed, grabbing the back of its head. "Away!" He slammed its face into the mountain, before pulling back and doing it again. "GO AWAY! GO AWAY!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, slamming the monster's head into the mountain again and again. He kept yelling it, not stopping until blood was splattered against the rocky surface.

With one last push, Yamcha let go of the wolf, letting it collapse to the floor in a heap. It didn't move, lying in a pool of its own blood. Breathing heavily, the child took a step back. He did it, he won.

"Yamcha?"

* * *

The desert gave way to reality again. Yamcha blinked, looking around. He was in the alley again, and parts of him hurt.

"What?" He muttered. He felt Panchy's arms around him, holding him tight. "Panchy?" He muttered, before his blurry vision straightened out.

A wave of nausea set in as Yamcha looked in front of him. The mugger laid on the cold stone floor, his clothes torn and bloody, a knife lodged in his hip. Blood was pooling around him, and Yamcha followed the trail to the wall with his eyes. The red liquid stained the brick wall.

"..." Yamcha said nothing as reality caught up with him.

"Yamcha?" He heard Panchy call. "Yamcha please look at me." He felt tears run down his cheeks, but this time, he did nothing to stop them. "Yamcha! Please answer me!"

He slumped to his knees, the tears pouring out like a broken dam. What had he done?

* * *

"Daddy, I'm home!" Bulma called out, pushing the front door open. To her surprise, Yamcha sat on the couch, with Puar and Mother sitting besides them. Her dad stood in the doorway of the kitchen, talking to a… Nurse? "What's going on?"

Panchy sprang up in surprise, moving in front of Yamcha in record speeds. "Bulma?" She said, and now the little girl could make out that her Mom's cheek was puffy. "Welcome home sweetie!" She cheered, though her false optimism was easily heard. Bulma raised an eyebrow.

"Thanks?" She said, not knowing why her mom was acting weird. "Anyways, I came up with a blueprint for a box fort! I was thinking me and Yamcha could make it together." She said, taking a step closer.

"D-don't you have homework, Puddin?" The woman stuttered.

"Uh, no? It's Friday." Bulma said. Her mother was starting to weird her out. "We don't get homework on Fridays. It's kindergarten."

"W-w-well… why don't you g-go play with your dolls in your room?" Panchy asked, a bead of sweat dripping from her brow.

"But I want to play with Yamcha!" She said, taking another step closer. "Why are you being so weird, Mama? I just want to make a box fort."

"Well, it's just that-" Panchy was cut of by Bulma dashing between her legs.

"Yamcha, let's… play?" She stammered off, looking at the desert boy in confusion. He was pale, shaking, and his shoulder was wrapped up. "Are you okay?"

"I didn't mean to." He muttered, not moving. His eyes were staring dead a head of him, and he rarely blinked.

"What?" Bulma asked. Now Yamcha was acting weird. What happened?

"I didn't mean to." He repeated.

"Didn't mean to what?" Bulma said, looking concerned. "Why are you acting so weird?"

"I didn't mean to."

"Yamcha, you're scaring me." Bulma said. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

"Bulma, Princess?" Dr. Briefs said, lightly guiding her away from the couch. "Yamcha is dealing with something at the moment, and I think it would be best to give him space."

"What happened, Daddy?" She asked, taking another look back at the boy.

"I'll tell you later."

Yamcha didn't join them for dinner, nor did he leave his room for the rest of the night. Bulma was getting worried. She'd have to talk to him tomorrow.

* * *

 **As I said, this chapter was dark. Don't worry, the story won't be depressing forever, I just need to set the history and lore. Also, it would be best to know that my goal is one chapter a week for either this or Resurrection All, so if one doesn't get updated, the other most likely will.**

 **BUT, my schedule is wonky at best, so a chapter might be late every now and than.**

 **To Ignis: Yeah, I really wish some more Yamcha centered stories would show up. I love them, but very few ever seem to talk about his past. Also yes, Bulma and Yamcha will be siblings in this, so it's completely platonic. :)**

 **Have a nice day, everyone.**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I felt it worked better this way. That and I didn't have a butt load of time to work on my stories this week.**

* * *

Yamcha sat by the window, watching the sunrise. He hadn't gotten much sleep, the small bags beneath his eyes said as much. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the blanket around him a little tighter.

The boy didn't know if he wanted to talk to someone or not. Puar was asleep and the idea of waking her up just to, in his mind, complain was a sour idea. He should make her waste her time on him.

The door to his room creaked open, but to his surprise, no one said anything. The sound of footsteps on the tile floor drew closer, until he felt someone sit besides him. It was Dr. Briefs. They sat there in silence, just watching as the sun up above the horizon.

"Its beautiful, isn't it?" Mr. Briefs asked, taking a small sip of his coffee.  
"...yeah." Yamcha muttered, seeing the golden light of the morning sun cast onto the front lawn. Another silence followed, not from awkwardness, just because nothing was important enough to say... But a question tugged at Yamcha's brain, one he needed an answer to. "Am I a bad person?"

Dr. Briefs blinked, slightly taken aback by the question. "Excuse me?"

"Am I a back person for what I did?" Yamcha repeated.

"No." The Scientist said. "What would make you think that?"

"I almost…" The word got caught in the Desert boy's throat, not wanting to mutter that foul word. "K-killed that man."

"But." Briefs said, turning to look at the boy. "You did it to save my Wife. To me, you were a hero." He knew the boy wouldn't benefit from sugar coating. He needed someone to confide in.

"..." Yamcha stayed quiet,his gaze falling to his knees. "I don't want to fight like that again."

"You don't have to fight anymore, my boy." Briefs said, patting the child's back. The boy shook his head, a sad frown etching his lips.

"No, no like that." He said. "I still want to fight, but not like that." He stammered over his words, struggling to find the right ones in his five year old vocabulary. "I wanna fight people that fight because they love it. L-like the World's Martial Art Tournament!" He said, balling his hands in determination. "That's who I want to fight!"

Dr. Briefs watched the boy with a sense of wonder. Letting out a small chuckle, he gave him a warm grin. "Well, those are some big goals, my boy. Do you think you're up for that kind of challenge?"

At a loss for words at the man not immediately telling him it wouldn't happen, Yamcha puffed his cheeks and nodded furiously.

"Do you think that fighting will help you forget that man?" He knew bringing it up would be a sore spot, but if the boy ever wanted to continue his goals, he had to deal with the hardships head on.

"Uh…" Yamcha muttered, slouching a little. What he had done still stung at him, and most likely always would… But Dammit, he wouldn't give up! He was gonna be the best! "Yes!" He shouted, stars in his eyes.

"Shh." Briefs hushed, knowing how cranky Bulma gets when she doesn't get her full sleep.

"Yes…" Yamcha whispered, sweet dropping.

* * *

Yamcha waved goodbye to Bulma as her bus drove away. He was feeling a little giddy. Puar floated around her Lord's head, kicking through invisible water.

"Lord Yamcha, you seem better!" She cheered. "Have you recovered from Yesterday?"

"Not completely, Puar." Yamcha said, doing his best to ignore the healing stab wound in his shoulder. The nurse lady was surprised to find that it had already started to heal. "But, I'm getting better. Mr. Briefs said he could help me with my fighting skills."

"Really!?" Puar asked, the wide smiles of her Lord rubbing off on her. "That's awesome!"

"Yeah, he's taking me somewhere after breakfast." The boy said, starting his way back to the house. The smell of sausage tickled at his nose, and his mouth started to water.

* * *

Dr. Briefs' hover car flew across the ocean, the wind whipping in Yamcha's hair. He ogled at the ocean, watching as things like dolphins jumped from the water, or a whale that was lazing across the water's surface. Puar clung to Yamcha's side, shivering in fear of the water.

"Where are we going?" The Desert boy asked, still staring into the blue ocean. It was beautiful, he'd never seen so much blue.

"I called an old friend of mine. He's a martial artist so I was hoping he could help. Name's Gohan." Briefs said. "But he has his hands full at the moment, so he got me in contact with one of his peers. He said he'd do what he could."

"And he lives out here in the ocean?" Yamcha asked, the idea of a fish person being his mentor making him laugh.

"No, he lives on an island. Though if you ask me, a fishman was my first thought too." The Scientist chuckled. "I do believe that is our destination." He pointed out to sea, a small island coming into view. A lone pink house sat on it, with red shapes on the front. Yamcha guessed they were letters like at the store. He really needed to learn how to read.

The rest of the ride was short, though to Yamcha and his eagerness, it felt like forever. Stepping off onto the sand, the boy was hit with a wave of nostalgia about an old oasis he found when he was four.

Dr. Briefs exited the car, guiding Yamcha to the front door. He knocked.

"Ehh, hold your horses." A voice called from the other side. Footsteps sounded closer and the door opened. An old, bald man with a long beard stood on the other side, a turtle shell hung on his back. "Can I help you?"

"You're Master Roshi, correct?" Dr. Briefs asked. The man nodded, taking a glance at Yamcha behind his shades.

"Yep. This is Yamcha I assume?" He asked, scratching his beard. Briefs nodded and the old hermit tapped his cane against the door frame. "He's rather young. I usually don't accept anyone under ten."

"Gohan told me as much. But Yamcha here really wants to learn to fight." The Scientist said, patting Yamcha's shoulder. "My boy, why don't you go look around? I have something private to talk about with Roshi."

"Yes Sir." Yamcha saluted, turning around and making a Beeline for a hammock that was strung between two trees. Once out of earshot, Briefs' expression became serious.

"I know he's young, but he's been through a lot." He whispered. Roshi raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift of tone.

"A lot? And how much is a lot for a youngin like him?" Roshi questioned, watching Yamcha swing in the hammock like a swing set.

"Enough for me to believe he suffers from PTSD." Briefs said, his chest tightening. Roshi was caught off guard, almost losing balance.

"PTSD, in someone so young?" He asked, his voice losing its laid back tone. "What happened." He'd be sceptical if it was anyone else, but the old hermit knew of Briefs' accomplishments. He doubted the scientist would throw around that term without cause.

"I'm not completely sure, sadly. He doesn't want to open up about it too much." Briefs said, talking a quick puff of his smokes. "From what I observed, and from the possible scenarios that could have brought that boy to where I found him, I believe his parents didn't want him and left him in Diablo Desert to get rid of him."

A nerve struck at the back of Roshi's head, and he scowled. "Damn worthless cowards." He spat. "Well… alright, I'll teach him." He began.

"Thank you so-" Briefs began.

 **BONK!**

The Scientist clutched his head, letting out a small "Ow".

"Don't interrupt your elders, boy." Roshi said, waving his stick. "As I was saying, I'll teach him. But, he's too young to learn about ki, his body wouldn't be able to handle it at the moment."

"That's fine." Briefs said, rubbing a small bump on his head. He wasn't entirely familiar with ki, but he knew about it and what it could do if practiced. While he was sure his Daughter and Yamcha would get a kick out of him firing beams from his palms, the potential hazards and damages were enough to make his face pale.

"Alright then. His training will start on Friday. He'll stay here for the weekends, and you can pick him up early on Monday. I imagine suddenly thrusting him into a new home would be ill advised."

Dr. Briefs nodded, knowing that the Boy still had a lot of healing to do.

* * *

The day went by quickly for Yamcha, and now he was laying in his bed, the moonlight giving a small glow in his dark room. Puar was snuggled up in a pillow at the foot of the bed.

A small knock at the door alerted Yamcha.

"Come in." He said. The door creaked open, and confusion surfed over the boy. "Bulma?" The girl looked nervous, holding a pillow close to her chest. She took a step into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. "What's up?"

"I was worried about you last night. You really scared me." She said, looking down.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, Bulma. I didn't mean to." Yamcha said, sitting up.

"I-I know you didn't. You were s-scared too, right?" She asked, taking another step closer. The air felt a little heavy to the two children, making them both uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I was." Yamcha muttered, his eyes casting down to look at his blankets. A short silence took over. The Desert boy didn't like it. "Bulma, why are you here?" He asked, before covering his mouth, thinking he sounded rude.

"I was so worried that…" Bulma began, her cheeks turning pink. No! Now was not the time to back down! Dropping her pillow, she clenched her fists and puffed her cheeks. "From now on, I'm sleeping with you!"

Yamcha almost fell out of bed, shock causing his eyes to become dinner plates. "W-what!?"

"I'm sleeping with you!" She said, raising her voice loud enough to sound serious, but not enough for her parents to hear. "Y-y-you looks s-so helpless earlier." She hiccuped, feeling tears running down her cheeks. "I don't w-want you to feel that way anymore!" She weeped, getting closer to Yamcha. "I want to help you!" She was now at the foot of the bed. "I wanna make you feel better." She said, now clutching Yamcha's hands in her own. "And… And I won't let you go through this alone!"

"..." Yamcha was silent, at a loss for words. "Bulma…" He muttered, watching as the little girl silently cried. He was… he was touched, confused, he didn't know what. They have only known each other for a few days, yet she cared about him enough to lead her to tears. Were all children so quick to care about others?

"I don't want you to be scared anymore." Bulma sniffed. She let go of Yamcha's hands, a sense of shame stinging at her chest. Was she moving too fast? He was the first real friend she had, he wasn't like the snobs and slobs from school. No, he was different.

She felt arms wrap around her, and her head was now pressed against something warm. Her breath hitched, and she tensed in the boy's warm embrace.

"Y-yamcha…" She muttered, slowly returning the hug. The two remained silent, even after the hug ended, just taking comfort in the other's presence. "I'll be by your side until you heal. Even if it takes forever." She whispered to him, her arms wrapped around his chest as they laid down. "That's a promise."

"Bulma… thank you for being my friend." Yamcha muttered back, feeling warm in the girl's embrace. "Just know that the same promise applies to you to. I'll be by your side till the end."

Bulma nuzzled her face closer into Yamcha's neck, a smile so wide and bright it put the sun to shame. "Best friends forever, right?"

"Best friends forever."

* * *

"Bulma? Where did that girl go?" Panchy asked herself, closing her daughter's bedroom door. She wasn't there. Maybe she was downstairs. "I'll wake Yamcha and head down, hopefully she's there."

The silence that came with early mornings was quite peaceful. Gave those that got up so early a chance to gather their thoughts and get ready for the busy day ahead of them. Panchy hoped to get an early start in her garden.

The mother found herself at Yamcha's door. Giving a knock, she opened it. "Yamcha, deary, it's time to wake up." She said, stepping into the room. To her surprise, the boy wasn't the only person in his bed.

Bulma laid next to the boy, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her head on his chest. Yamcha smiled in his sleep, holding the girl with one arm. Puar was snoring peacefully at the foot of the bed. Panchy stopped, surprised to see her daughter.

A smile crept onto her face and she rushed out to get a camera. Boy, were the two children embarrassed to wake up to the Mother taking their picture. "It's one for the scrapbook."

* * *

The week flew by for Yamcha, before he knew it, it was Friday. He sat under a tree, watching Puar scold a bird for "Almost dodoing on Lord Yamcha". He chuckled at that, Puar was always so protective. He liked it, it made him feel safe. Not that there was a reason to not feel safe at Capsule Corp. But nevertheless, he was thankful for the effort.

A part of him wished Bulma was with him, it was boring without her. That, and he didn't want to go back on the promise they made Wednesday night. Stupid school!

"Ready to go, my Boy?" Dr. Briefs asked, walking over to the tree. "Your lessons start today." Yamcha sprung up, excited. His eyes were stary and his was practically bouncing on his heels. Puar hovered onto his shoulder, paws on her hips and a cocky smile on her lips.

"This will be easy, right Lord Yamcha?" She asked, pride flowing like a waterfall from her voice.

The ride felt like it took forever to the boy and his cat. Puar was complaining about the distance, while Yamcha took to just watching the sealife that passed by. Fish, birds flying above, heck even animals he's never seen before. It was amazing.

The island came into view, and Yamcha felt his stomach tighten. He was excited, but anxious as well. He was gonna learn to fight from a master, for crying out loud! He would be one step closer to being able to enter the World Martial Arts tourney.

Roshi waited on the beach, watching the hover car approach. A low sigh escaped his lips. He'd never taught someone this young, that was Gohan's department. Part of him wondered what caused the man to be unable to teach. From what he was told, Gohan found a baby, and they were being pretty rowdy. Maybe he'd take the kid, Goku, if Roshi remembered right, and come visit.

The hover car touched down on the beach, Yamcha jumping out, pep in his step, and Briefs taking the normal way, pushing the door open.

"Alright Yamcha, are you ready?" Briefs asked, kneeling down to look the boy in the eyes. Yamcha nodded, wiping the grin off his face to look more serious. "You take care, alright? If you have second thoughts, we're one call away."

"I'm ready, Mr. Briefs." Yamcha said, this time with a straight face. Briefs could tell the boy was struggling to not wear that goofy grin he's had since they first entered the car. "I'm gonna be strong."

"That you will, boy." Roshi said, walking up to the two. He tapped Yamcha on the head with his walking stick, making the boy cover his head. "Now, first let's get you set in. Go put your stuff in the living room."

"Yes sir!" Yamcha squealed, grabbing his luggage and hauling it to the house. "Come on, Puar!" He yelled. The cat flew after him, muttering something about holding horses.

"He's excited." Roshi stated plainly. "Know this, Briefs." He began, turning his head to look at the doctor. "I won't lie to you, my training is intense. And just because he's young doesn't mean I'll be taking it easy on him."

Dr. Briefs nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "Understood."

"Good." Roshi said, stepping away to begin his walk to the house. "Take care, Scientist."

* * *

Setting his luggage down on the couch, Yamcha looked around, taking in the room. It was homely, if a little small. He liked it. So this is where he was staying during the weekends. He just hoped Bulma wouldn't be mad.

Roshi stepped in, closing the door behind him. Walking over to the couch, he stood over Yamcha. Despite the Hermit's shortness, he was still a full head taller than the boy. "Are these your clothes?" He asked, picking up the bag.

Yamcha nodded. "Yeah, it has enough clothes to last the weekend." He said. Roshi nodded… Before he tossed them out a nearby window. "Wh-wha? Why did you do that?!" He asked, ready to go retrieve them. Roshi held out his stick out to block the boy.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine. You won't be wearing them anyways." He said, letting his staff down, and walked over to one of many closets that lined the wall.

"Why not?" Yamcha asked, following him. Puar remained silent, wanting to give the old man a piece of her mind, but knew it would not be a good idea.

"That things are too stiff." Roshi explained, opening a closet that held countless orange gi's. "They'll just hinder your movement. These won't." He said, tossing Yamcha a smaller gi. "Put this on." Yamcha nodded, heading to the middle of the room before he stopped. Roshi raised an eyebrow. "What is it, boy?"

"Ugh, where's the bathroom?" Yamcha asked, his cheeks heating from embarrassment. Roshi pointed towards a door next to the kitchen. "Hehe, thanks." A minute later, Yamcha stepped out from the bathroom, pulling his belt like cloth tight.

"How do they fit?" Roshi asked. Yamcha tugged at the pants section of his gi.

"A little weird. But not bad." He answered.

"Good enough." Roshi said, heading for the door, motioning Yamcha to follow. "Come on. Let's see what you can do as of now. It's important to know your skills before I can train you."

* * *

 **And enter Master Roshi! I felt it would be appropriate to include him, as a big part of this little Yamcha is to get stronger. So why not include the guy that helped make Goku so strong.**

 **Also, as a side note. In the timeline, Goku would have just landed on Earth, so Gohan wouldn't be able to take care of him while also training Yamcha.**


	4. Chapter 4

Yamcha stood in front of a log that was suspended from a palm tree. Master Roshi sat a few feet away from the Boy.

"Alright, to start off, I need to get an example of your strength, speed and technique. Usually, I classify my students into those three groups." He explained, fixing his sunglasses. "So simply fight the log like you would anyone else."

"Yes Sir." Yamcha said, staring down the log.

 **BONK!**

"Ow!" Yamcha yelled, rubbing his head. Roshi waggled his staff at the Boy, his face neutral, yet oozing with authority.

"You'll be calling me Master Roshi from now on. Learn it, or I'll whack yah again." The Old Hermit said. Yamcha nodded, deciding to keep his mouth shut. "Alright, now show me what you can do."

With a shout of fury, Yamcha dashed at the log. He slammed his fist into it over and over, putting as much force as he could behind each strike. "..." He panted as he stepped back, looking over the log. "Gah!" He yelled, blowing air at his hands. They were beat red.

Roshi shook his head, walking over to the log. "You put a couple of chips in it." He said, turning to face Yamcha. Said Boy beamed happily, fists balled in excitement. A quick **BONK** snapped the boy out of his mental parade. "While impressive for someone your age, you were beyond sloppy." He took another glance at the log before continuing. "You're trying to go for pure strength when you don't have to power to go with it."

Yamcha frowned, part of him disappointed in himself. But, another part of him called this a good thing, a challenge to overcome and get better from it. He wiped the frown off his face, replacing it with a scowl of determination. Roshi cocked an eyebrow, confused by the sudden shift in mood. Usually the young ones felt discouraged to try after being told of their flaws.

Yamcha was about to tell Roshi he wanted to try again, but Puar landed on his head. "Hold on one moment!" She said, jumping off Yamcha's head to float in front of him. "This isn't Lord Yamcha's true potential!"

"It isn't?" Roshi asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, come on, Lord Yamcha! Show him how you do it in the desert." She cheered, making space for Yamcha to go again. Master Roshi simply stood still, waiting for the boy to try again.

"A-alright." Yamcha stuttered, knowing full well what he'd have to do to go all out. He closed his eyes, breathing in and out as he cleared his mind.

* * *

The desert wind dragged along sand, and Yamcha found it tickling his cheeks. In front of him, an old Desert Raptor stood, looking over the young child with a look of patiences. Out of all the creatures that roamed Diablo, he had never expected that the Dinosaurs would be the most friendly. In the corner of his vision, he saw Puar playing with a group of baby raptors.

Yamcha bowed to the Elder Dino, who merely watched him. Getting into position, Yamcha held out his hands, making his fingers curl like claws. He couldn't remember where exactly he learned this, but he would never forget it.

The Raptor roared and Yamcha sprang into action, the echoing sound acting as a sort of starting whistle.

With a war cry, Yamcha barreled at the Raptor. The Dino blinked at him, quickly whipping its tail at the boy. He jumped over it, continuing till he reached the creature.

 _ **HOWL**_

Yamcha slammed his eyes closed as the sound of that wolf echoed in his mind. Please, not now! He shouted, forcing his eyes open, barely avoiding the clawed, stubby arm of the Raptor. He forced himself to ignore the wolves in his outer vision, knowing they were just images his mind painted.

"Wolf!" Yamcha screamed, scraping the Raptor along its belly before ducking out the way of another swipe. "Fang!" He yelled, slashing at the Raptor repeatedly with his fingers, held steady and sharp. The barrage caused the Dino to stagger. "FIST!" He slammed his palms into the Dino's gut, causing the large elder to skid back a couple of feat. It wasn't much all things considered, but to everyone around, it was a good show of power. He howled to the heavens, mimicking the wolves that circled him as they all slowly disappeared. They wouldn't be gone forever, but for now, the boy could rest.

Yamcha huffed, watching the Raptor regain its footing. The two met eyes, the Boy waiting for confirmation. The Elder's eyes softened, and the two bowed to each other.

* * *

Roshi watched as Yamcha's eyes opened, his pupils gone, as he yelled and struck the log with open palms. The string holding the wood broke and the log was sent flying along the sand before it splashed into the ocean.

The Boy howled, which gave Roshi a good chuckle. He waited a few moments for the Boy to calm down, regaining his barings. "My my, that was much better." He said, stepping over to where the log used to be. "That was far more organized."

"Th-thank you, M-master Roshi." Yamcha stuttered, bowing. Puar danced around his feat, full of pride. Lord Yamcha was the best, after all.

"Now…" Roshi began, turning to the ocean. "Go get that log back, can afford to lose them at the moment." Yamcha gulped, almost faceplanting.

* * *

A soaked, naked Yamcha sat by the couch as Roshi looked through the closet for a towel and an extra gi. Puar chuckled at her Lord. He rolled his eyes at her, a small smile etched on his face.

"Here you go." Roshi said as he handed Yamcha a towel and gi. The child put the gi on the floor next to his and started rubbing the towel against his hair. The Old Hermit sat down a few feet away. "Now for my review. I'd say you fall under the Speed category. That little 'Wolf Fang Fist' attack of yours centered on overbearing your foe with fast, repetitive punches before finishing with a powerful blow."

"Wow, you could tell just from seeing it once?" Yamcha asked in amazement while he started putting the new gi on. This guy must be the best at fighting if he could analyze attacks that easily. "How?"

"Years of experience, my Boy." Roshi chuckled. "Where did you learn that little move, if I may ask?"

Yamcha tilted his head, tapping his finger against his chin. "I don't remember, since I could remember, I've known it." He said. Roshi nodded, picking himself up.

"Well whoever taught you was a good teacher. Now come on, let's eat dinner." He said, motioning Yamcha to fallow. The Boy got a goofy grin, patting his belly.

* * *

Yamcha's eyes slowly opened, grogginess hazing his movements. He sat up from his mat, looking around. Roshi slept in the middle of the room, snoring loudly and muttering something involving women. Puar slept next to the Boy, curled up in a ball.

"I gotta pee." Yamcha muttered, getting up. Moonlight shown through the window, giving him a faint outline of the room. He felt his way along the wall to the staircase, where he tiptoed down them. The main room, while dark, was far more visible. The little bandit made his way over to the bathroom.

After taking a tinkle, Yamcha washed his hands and exited the bathroom. He was going to make his way back upstairs, but paused. His eyes locked onto the front door. Fresh air sounded nice. Sneaking over to the front door, he stepped onto the grassy lawn.

The moon glimmered beautifully in the starry night sky. Yamcha smiled, remembering the full moons he saw in the desert and how quiet it was. He was starting to tolerate the city, but the constant noise was annoying. To be in utter silence, save for the waves crashing against the sand, was like heaven.

Yamcha stepped onto the sand, seeing a small, orange glow on the horizon. The sun was going to rise soon. "I should go back to bed." He muttered, yet didn't move. "Actually, I'm not tired." He said, breathing in the salty air. He squinted, balling his hands. He would get better, and to do that, he needed to train. He thought up an imaginary opponent, that old Raptor he befriended in the desert. Getting in his stance, he stared down the Dino, ready to strike.

* * *

Roshi was surprised to find his young student was not in his bed. He was able to find the Boy rather quickly, finding him panting on the sandbank, dirty and covered in sand. He was throwing punches and kicks at something that wasn't there, dodging and weaving out of imaginary blows.

"Determined, aren't yah?" Roshi said, chuckling as the Yamcha tensed and spun around, trying to wipe the dirt of his gi.

"Master Roshi!" Yamcha gasped, his arms flattening against his sides. "S-sorry for being up so early."

"Nothing to apologise for, Yamcha." Roshi said, patting the boy's back. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up so we can begin our training."

After breakfast, Yamcha found himself on one leg, holding two buckets filled with water. His muscles ached as he tried his best to not let the water spill. Roshi watched him, chomping down on some sandwiches. Puar sat next to the Hermit, watching her Lord struggle to keep his balance.

" _This is embarrassing."_ Yamcha thought, a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead. He just hoped the rest of his training wouldn't be as humiliating.

* * *

It had been.

Yamcha groaned in the passenger seat of Dr. Briefs' hover car, doing his best not to move. His muscles were sore and all he wanted was a warm bath. Dr. Briefs looked over to the boy, smiling.

"So, I assume you enjoyed your stay." He said. His only response was a groan. "Bulma missed you, you know."

"Yeah?" Yamcha asked, turning his head slightly. "Is she mad I left without a goodbye?"

"Oh she was livid at us." Briefs chuckled. Land appeared on the horizon. "Wouldn't talk to me for a whole day. But I think she'll be happy to see you." He said, a warm smile glossing his lips. "She cares about you, you know. Despite only knowing you for a week, she considers you her best friend."

"Really?" Yamcha asked. Sure, they made that best friends pact, but for her to really mean it. It made him feel warm inside.

"Yes really." Dr. Briefs said. "She considers you part of the family. We do to." A short silence took over, a question forming on Briefs' lips. "Yamcha…" He began, looking over to the boy. "How would you feel about being adopted?"

"Adopted? What's that?" Yamcha asked, looking to Puar in hopes that she would know. She just shrugged, as clueless as he was.

"Adoption means that… you'd be part of a family, officially. You'd take our last name, and the law would consider you our son." Briefs explained, a little nervous. He knew Yamcha was emotionally unstable, so this kind of question might be too much. But, he cared for the boy, as did Panchy and Bulma. "How does that sound? Yamcha Briefs, it has a nice ring to it."

"I-I…" Yamcha muttered, a mix of confusion, shock and nervousness taking over. They wanted him to be part of their family? But he would just be an inconvenience. He didn't want to bother them. "But, I'd just get in the way."

"Nonsense, Yamcha." Briefs said. "You're a great kid, you know. You shouldn't doubt yourself."

Yamcha remained silent, staring at his feet. "I… I need time to think about it." No he didn't, he just didn't want to think about it. Briefs nodded, patting the boy's shoulder.

"Take your time, Yamcha. You don't have to rush it." He said, giving the boy a sad smile.

* * *

"Yamcha!" Was the first thing the child heard when Dr. Briefs opened the front door. Next thing he knew, he was struggling to breath, caught in a bear hug from his blue haired best friend. "You're back!"

"H-hi, Bul-ma." He coughed, struggling to breath. "Bulma…"

"You big meanie! You should have said goodbye before you left!" She yelled, her grip tightening.

"Bulma!" He shouted, catching the girl off guard. "Can't *Huff* Breath."

"Oh, sorry!" Bulma said, dropping Yamcha. His rear hit the ground and he resisted the urge to howl from his sore muscles. "But next time let me know before you leave." She huffed, crossing her arms. Yamcha scratched the back of his head, sweat dropping.

"Heh heh, sorry Bulma." He chuckled, picking himself up. A thought popped into his mind, and he scratched his head. "Wait. Shouldn't you be at school?"

"It's a holiday today, so she got the day off." Panchy said, appearing from the kitchen with a tray of lemonade and sandwiches in hand. She was about to continue, but something caught her attention, mainly in her nose. "Oh my, something smells."

Yamcha's face turned red. "Sorry, that's me. I didn't get a bath at Master Roshi's house." He explained. Panchy set down the tray on the coffee table and grabbed Yamcha's arm, dragging him to the stairs.

"Before you do anything else, you're taking a bath!" She said, pulling him up the stairs. Bulma, Puar and Dr. Briefs watched him go, holding in a chuckle.

A short bath and a lot of soap later, Yamcha was squeaky clean and dressed. He wanted to rest, to let the soreness in his muscles go away, but Bulma had other plans.

"Where are we going?" Yamcha asked, keeping pace with the excited girl that was dragging him along.

"I want to show you something!" Bulma giggled, eyes locked on a door at the other end of the hall. "I had Daddy make something for us!"

Yamcha raised an eyebrow, taking random guesses at what his surprise could be. Several ideas came to mind, but instead of asking, he just went along with Bulma. He'd find out in a minute anyway.

They reached the door and Bulma pushed it open. It was a door to the backyard. A large fence gated off the outside world, giving the duo plenty of privacy. In the center of the backyard was… a playset.

"When did this get here?" Yamcha asked, taking in the new construction. It was a mesh of different objects, a swing set, a multiple slides, among other things. It was like one of those playgrounds he saw when he left for Roshi's.

"Daddy built it for us while you were away!" Bulma cheered, pulling him closer to their personal playground. "Come on!"

The duo played, swinging on the swings, climbing the monkey bars and using the slides just to name a few things. Yamcha smiled as he pushed Bulma on the swing, hearing her giggles of joy. It felt nice to be here with her. He never had someone his age to play with, or time to play to begin with.

"Okay, Yamcha, your turn." Bulma called, grounding her soles against the soft grass. She quickly came to a stop after a few smaller swings. They switched positions and Bulma gave Yamcha a few good shoves to get him going.

Yamcha sat there in peace, watching the fence get shorter and longer with each swing. He watched random people walk by, on their way to who knows where. Cars passed by with a low vroom. The boy's smile grew larger, he felt on top of the world.

A strand of blonde hair caught his eye. Hanging onto the fence was a girl with a head of long blonde hair with a red bow, poking her head over. She was staring at him. Yamcha felt his cheeks heat up under the attention of the girl. He was still scared of them. Bulma and Panchy didn't count though. They weren't girls, they were his friends, at least that's what he made himself think anyway.

"Hey! Who are you?" Bulma shouted at the girl. The Blonde let out a gasp before dropping down and most likely running away. "You better run!" Bulma called, shaking her fist at the fence.

Yamcha slowed to a stop, hopping off the swing. He stared at where the girl had once been, confused beyond belief. The way she stared at him, he couldn't tell what she was thinking. There was something in her eyes, a look of surprise and… honor.

"What a weirdo." Bulma scowled, scratching her head. "Do you know her, Yamcha?"

"I don't think so." Yamcha replied, blinking at his best friend.

"Guys!" Puar's voice sounded from the door. Yamcha and Bulma turned to face her, seeing that the cat held a little fish in her paws. "Lunch is ready! We're having fish sticks!" She chirped happily, before flying back into Capsule Corp.

"Geez, she sure loves fish, huh?" Bulma asked, sweat dropping. Yamcha looked over to her, making her expression.

"You have no idea…"

* * *

Yamcha slept peacefully in his bed, in the embrace of Bulma. They smiled in their sleep, having sweet dreams play in their minds. The Blue haired girl refused to sleep without the boy, saying how she hadn't seen him in a whole weekend. Yamcha didn't mind, he liked having her around.

"Out of the bed as quietly as possible." A voice whispered in Yamcha's ear. His eyes snapped open and he was about to yell before a hand clamped over his mouth. "Not a word or I shoot." The voice was feminine, he noted.

Yamcha squirmed out of Bulma's arms, replacing his presence with a pillow. In the dark room, he barely made out the silhouette of someone his height. The shine of the moonlight against something in their hands alerted him to the presence of a gun.

"Out the window, now." The figure spat in a whisper. Yamcha did as instructed and soon he was standing in the front yard under a tree. "Now…"

He was able to make out the figure now… It was the girl from earlier. She held him at gunpoint, an Uzi that was too big for her held tightly in her hands.

"Are you Yamcha?" She asked, glaring at him. He nodded hastily, not wanting to get shot and his fear of women striking like a truck. "From Diablo Desert?" She continued.

"H-how do you know that?" Yamcha stuttered, feeling his throat run dry. To his confusion, the girl dropped the Uzi, letting it hit the ground. She followed suit… bowing to him like a cult does to their leader. "Wh-what?" He muttered, watching the girl.

"It really is you!" She said, before going wide eyed and clamping her hand over her mouth. "Shit." She muttered, looking to see if any lights turned on in the house. To her luck, the house was still dark and silent. She sighed and pulled herself to her feet.

"A-again, how do y-y-you know me?" Yamcha asked again, ready to pounce the girl if he needed to.

"I'm Launch." The girl said, studying Yamcha. "But more importantly, you're _the_ Yamcha. Lord of the Sands." She whispered/ chirped. "You're a legend among the bandits and thieves." She said, stars in her eyes. "At the age of three, you were robbing convoys from people that most adults couldn't even dream of attacking."

"Uhh…" Yamcha muttered, not sure if he was flattered to hear he was a living legend. "So… are you a thief?"

"I want to be." Launch said, motioning down to her Uzi. "But I'm a little small to be using guns yet, and except for you, no one's gonna take a child bandit seriously." After saying that, she frowned, before a light bulb flashed above her head. "Lord Yamcha, can you teach me to be a thief?!" She beamed.

"S-sorry, but for now, I'm trying to put my that side of me away. I only did it to survive, and now, these people…" Yamcha said, motioning towards Capsule Corp. "They have taken me in. I don't wanna steal from innocent people."

The light in Launch's eyes dimmed, and she frowned. It felt like her dreams had been crushed. "Oh, I see…"

"I'm sorry." Yamcha said, scratching his neck.

"Well, what if…" Launch began, trying to think of a way to salvage her dreams. An idea came to her, and while she wasn't sure it was what she really wanted, it seemed like her best choice. "What if we stole from other bandits and bad people?"

Yamcha gave the idea some thought. Stealing from bad people… kinda like a hero! That would be a great way to make up for his actions in the desert. The boy nodded, giving a small smile. "Alright, that sounds fine."

Launch was at a loss for words, overcome with a sense of joy. She shook a little, a toothy grin spreading across her face. "T-then, I g-guess that makes us a t-t-team." She stuttered, quickly bending down and grabbing her Uzi. "How about w-we meet at the park tomorrow?"

"Sure. How does noon sound?" Yamcha asked, giving a small smile to the girl. A pink blush still dusted his cheeks, but he had gotten his composure back. Launch nodded, but froze when she saw a light flicker on in the kitchen.

"That sound perfect! B-but I gotta go right now. S-see ya." She spat out in a frenzy, before hauling ass to the front gate and climbing over, before she disappeared from sight.

Yamcha blinked, watching her go. But reality quickly caught up and with wide eyes, he sprang back and clutched the wall, climbing back up to his window and slipping in. As he slid back into bed, making sure to not wake Bulma, he couldn't help but smile.

He made a new friend tonight.

* * *

 **I know the Training session with Roshi was short, but I felt it wasn't worth including the beginning of his training. He won't be doing any fighting in it for a while.**

 **Also, welcome Launch! :D Nothing much to say about her, but I do have plans for her and her disorder. Since Launch and Yamcha are children right now (6 and 5 respectively), I'd imagine their personality traits and quirks aren't fully developed yet. (Launch's sneezing transformation isn't as frequent and Yamcha's fear of girls isn't as intense, as he has no issues with his hormones since he hasn't hit puberty)**

 **Also, as a head's up, after the next chapter, the story _might_ enter a time skip, giving attention to the highlights and character development the characters would go through. Though I put emphasis on _might_.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I know this chapter is a little short, but I felt I should add a quick chapter since I won't have a lot of time to work on this for the week. I'm going on vacation.**

 **Head's up, from now on, some chapters contain minor time skips. It's nothing drastic, just a few weeks, a month, or in a rare occasion a year.** **But nothing longer.**

* * *

Panchy had been surprised to hear Yamcha ask her to go somewhere. Besides training, he never wanted to leave Capsule Corp. So for him to want to go to the park of all places, one of the most populated areas in the city, was off putting to say the least. But it wasn't a back thing. On the contrary, to Panchy, it was a sign of good progress in the boy. He's been living with them for over a week and was already trying to push his fears aside.

If she only knew the truth. Yamcha had no plans of getting over his social anxiety yet. Instead, he had to meet with Launch.

"Stay safe, Yamcha!" Panchy called as she watched the child run off. "That kid." She muttered, a small smile on her face. She took a seat on a nearby bench and cracked open a book she had brought with her.

Yamcha, once he made sure he was out of Panchy's sight, ducked into a bush to avoid a group of kids coming his way. Burma had complained about how the public schools got spring break a week earlier than her.

The kids passed, but as Yamcha got up from his hiding spot, a hand dragged him behind a tree. Launch stood inches away, scanning to see if anyone else was around.

"Coast seems clear." She said, letting go of the now blushing boy. "Guess I won't need to use this." She spat, holstering… a pistol! Yamcha's eyes went wide and part of him panicked.

"Why do you have that?!" He said in a harsh whisper. Launch shrugged, giving her hero a "I don't know" look.

"I like guns." She shrugged. Yamcha almost face planted.

"Well don't use them on random people, I saw the way you gripped that thing." He said, wagging a finger.

"Fine." Launch huffed, crossing her arms. "Let's just get to the training."

* * *

"You're sloppy." Yamcha said, holding Launch in a headlock. "You were too slow, your opponent would have plenty of time to counter." He informed, letting go of the blonde. She grumbled, taking a few steps back and recollecting herself. If this was her idol, she would have gone off on him by now.

"Why can't I just use my guns?" She spat, feeling her frustration rise. She wanted to live out her thief fantasies with her idol, robbing from the best of 'em side by side.

"They can be disarmed, and they can run out of ammo." Yamcha said, before holding up is fist. "Unlike your fists."

Launch wanted to protest, but something in the way the boy explained his reasons prevented her from doing so. He was right. She sighed, getting back into a fighting pose. "Alright, no guns for now. But that doesn't mean I'm never gonna use them."

"That's fine, guns are helpful. I just want to make sure you can stay safe if you can't get them." Yamcha said, giving a small smile. Launch faltered for a second, a tinge of pink lining her cheeks. He… cared about her safety? They only met last night.

"T-thank you." She stuttered. She hadn't expected his words, so she was thrown off guard. "I didn't take you to be one to care."

"We're gonna be partners, right?" Yamcha asked, loosening up a little. Launch nodded, her blush getting a little more visible. "Than why wouldn't I care? We're a team now, we'll have to stick together out there."

"R-r-right." Launch muttered, pushing her surprise to the side.

Their training continued for an hour or so. Yamcha taught Launch about the basics of Close Quarters Combat, giving a few tips and tricks along the way. It a little time for the Blonde to get it down, but that's what training was made for.

They laid side by side, panting and exhausted. They were both covered in dirt splotches and their clothes were dotted with grass stains.

"That was intense." Launch said, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. She blinked a bit, feeling her nose start to tickle.

"Yeah." Yamcha muttered. While he was nowhere near as tired, he was still a little sore from training with Roshi. "But it'll pay off when we start beating up those bad guys." He smiled. He heard Launch sneeze, and he let out a quiet chuckle. "Bless you."

"Huh?" Launch asked. Yamcha looked over to her, about to repeat his blessing. He froze when blue locks laid where blonde ones were supposed to. "Are you okay, Yamcha?" She asked kindly, pushing herself up.

"Launch?" Yamcha gasped, getting to his feet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Launch responded, scratching her head. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Do you need a hug?"

"What? No, I'm fine." Yamcha said, confused beyond all belief. "What happened to your hair?"

"Huh? Oh this?" She asked, pointing to her blue locks. "Well you see-" She began, but cut herself off with a sneeze. Instantly, her hair changed back and a look of discombobulation painted her face. "Damn, what just happened?" She asked, rubbing her forehead. "Weren't we just on the ground?"

"Uhh…" Yamcha stared, trying to process what the heck was going on. "You sneezed… and your hair turned blue."

"... Fuck." She muttered, scowling. "Listen, I know I probably didn't know who you were with the blue hair, but whatever I said, I didn't mean it."

"Actually, you just asked me if I was feeling alright and offered to hug me." Yamcha said.

"What? But that means…" Launch said, closing her eyes and sighing. "I'll explain what that was another time, I have to go." She said, giving a small wave.

"Wait!" Yamcha called, catching the girls attention. "So when do you want to meet again?"

"Don't worry, I'll just sneak in again tonight." She said, winking at him before grabbing her guns and going on her merry way.

"Great." Yamcha deadpanned, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

* * *

And true to her word, Launch was at Yamcha's window in the dead of night, carrying a basket of paper and crayons.

"What's these for for?" Yamcha asked, helping the blonde inside.

"If we wanna fight those bad guys, we gotta make sure no one knows who we are." Launch explained. "I could probably round up enough cloth to make us costumes."

"Oh… Well maybe I can get Panchy or Bulma to make us costumes." Yamcha suggested, taking a piece of paper.

"No!" Launch spat, before covering her mouth. She locked her gaze onto the door, listening for anyone. She let out a sigh of relief when only crickets could be heard. "I don't want those adults to know about me."

"Why?" Yamcha asked.

"Because, I doubt they would approve of _our_ plan." She responded, motioning to her uzi. "If they knew, there's no way we could do this."

"Alright…" Yamcha sighed, knowing she was right. "I'll keep mine simple so you don't have to find too much cloth." Launch gave a small nod back, happy to see he was so considerate.

The two children got to work doodling ideas for their costumes, drawing and scribbling out different concepts. Yamcha didn't care much about hiding himself, so he went for the bare minimums. His final design featured a blue scarf to hide his mouth and nose and a pair of shades that could hide his eyes. His clothes consisted of an armless light blue shirt and dark blue pants. He called his persona "Lancer".

Launch on the other hand, went full swing. Her outfit was a little more covering. It consisted of a long sleeve black shirt and camo slacks. Tan gloves would cover her hands, while black boots adorned her feet. Her hair would be tied back with her red bow. Two black smudges adorned the picture's cheeks. Finally, a backpack was crudely drawn on her back. She wrote the persona's name, but Yamcha couldn't make it out.

"What does that say?" He asked, pointing to her scribble. Launch glared at the boy. He felt a blush lace his face, and scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I don't know how to read."

"Oh… good." The Blonde muttered under her breath. At least her handwriting wasn't being insulted. "It's my character's name. It says 'Marilynn', pretty cool, huh?" She gloated, proud in her work.

"Yeah." Yamcha simply agreed. Looking over her design, he wondered if he could tie his hair back as well.

They continued to chat about anything really throughout the night, completely forgetting about time. They swapped stories from their past, Yamcha telling of his bandit heists, while Launch talked about her attempted thefts. She was surprised to see he was interested, but she guessed he hadn't grown out of liking to steal.

 **KNOCK KNOCK!**

The Duo froze as they heard someone on the other side of the door. "Yamcha, Dear, breakfast is ready!" Panchy called, and they could see the doorknob fiddle a little.

"Uh, One second, Panchy!" Yamcha called, springing up and flinging Launch her Uzi. He mouthed the words "See you." and darted to the door. The Blonde nodded, grabbing the pictures and hauling it out the window.

That would be their schedule for the next week, Launch sneaking into Yamcha's room, where the two would just chat for hours, planning their her escapades or just talking. Yamcha was quick to sneak a sleeping bag for his blonde friend so she could sleep there in comfort. He also introduced her to Puar. The two got along and the idea of going back to their old ways, while for a different reason, filled the cat with excitement.

Friday was quick to come, which meant Yamcha had to leave to train again. He told Launch she could use his bed since she didn't have one back home, and she was grateful for it. She had chosen to stay and watch him leave from his room, giving the boy a thumbs up when he looked to her from Dr. Briefs' car. He returned the gesture, smirking as he left.

* * *

 **Again, sorry for the short chapter. I didn't feel I could do more without rushing it and I don't want to do that. I'll be on vacation for the week, so expect the usual longer chapters to return next week.**

 **And one final note, I have an idea of how I plan to write "Servant to a Majin" and I will most likely flip between updating them after the next chapter. So if you like that story (Which checking from the favorites and follows is a lot of you) you're in luck. :3**


	6. Chapter 6

About a month and a half had passed since Yamcha became a resident of Capsule Corp. He found that his life fell into a weekly routine. He'd spend time with Bulma, Dr Briefs and Panchy during the weekdays, while those nights would be occupied with talking to Launch. Finally, the weekends had him training at Master Roshi's. Yamcha was happy with this, he finally had a normal life. He never really cared about that kind of lifestyle, but now that he wasn't robbing innocent people, he welcomed the change.

Today was a Wednesday, but it was also the day he let a word he didn't mean to slip.

* * *

Yamcha froze up, his cheeks flaring with an intense red. He slapped his hands over his mouth and ran out of the kitchen. Panchy stood by the sink, shock etched on her face. Slowly, a small smile formed on her lips. The young boy had called her "Mom".

It had been a small slip. Yamcha had been eating his breakfast a little late. Dr. Briefs and Bulma had already left for the lab and school respectively. Yamcha chirped as he swallowed his pancakes, while Puar sipped from a small cup of juice.

"Did you enjoy your meal, Deary?" Panchy asked, scrubbing a few dishes in the sink. Yamcha nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin before jumping down from his chair.

"Yeah, it was really good, Mom." He said. And that's how it happened.

Panchy returned to her dishes, humming happily to herself. That had been progress. She'd have to tell her husband later.

Yamcha contemplated apologising to Panchy for his slip up. He hadn't meant to call her that. But… the idea wasn't unappealing. A mom, he never really had one. Not one that he could remember. Anything before the desert was a blurry mess of shapes at best. Maybe having a Mom wasn't a bad thing for him, not that he'd ever say that out loud of course. He still didn't feel ready to be apart of a family yet. He was an outsider.

* * *

It wasn't for another week till Yamcha and Launch had decided it was time to their first mission… Well more like Yamcha finally agreed to his Blonde friend's nagging.

Despite her hopes, Launch found the night to be uneventful. The city was quiet, only the occasional pedestrian making their way home after a late shift seemed to be out.

"Dammit." Launch muttered, letting her feet dangle from the park bench she sat on with Yamcha. He looked over to her, pushing up his sunglasses.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"This is boring." Launch said, taking another look around for any chance for action. But nothing was to be seen. "I thought we'd be beating up bad guys."

"Well, crime doesn't happen everyday." Yamcha said, leaning back on the bench. "There were some times where I had to wait almost a week for a convey."

"Wait, wait." Launch said, giving Yamcha a confused look. "You knew how to not only tell time, but almost remember weeks, yet you can't read?"

Yamcha rubbed his neck sheepishly, feeling embarrassed. "Heh heh, I never had a way to learn, but Bulma is trying to teach me." He smiled. "You know, I enjoy talking to you."

"Really?" Launch asked, casting him an unsure look. The boy nodded, his smile becoming a toothy grin.

"Yeah, really. You're awesome!" He chirped. "You're the only person besides Puar that I can talk to without avoiding the Desert. And you were the one with the idea to become heroes! It's like I can start over, without worrying about my past." He spilled, pure happiness shining in his voice. "I can't thank you enough, Launch! You're the best!"

Launch's throat clenched, choking any words she might have had back into the pit of her stomach. Her face turned a bright red while the rest of her fidgeted awkwardly. "Uh, I-I-I…" She tried to find something, anything to say to that, but nothing could make it passed her throat. Hearing that. Hearing that someone thought so highly of her, especially since it came from Yamcha, her damn idol, it made her feel weird inside. She felt honored from his praise, nervous from it as well as a fear of ruining that view of his, and… something she couldn't understand or know yet. Whatever it was, that was the feeling that had robbed her of her wits, far better than any bandit or thief could. Guess that's why Yamcha was considered the best of the best. He could not only take your valuables, but your sense of self as well.

Yamcha took notice to Launch's sudden change in body language. "Are you okay, Launch?" He asked, poking her shoulder. That touch only seemed to send the Blonde into overdrive. She leaned back on the bench, looking like steam could pour of of her at any second. "Launch?" Yamcha asked the girl again, retracting his hand in a blur. Did he do something wrong.

"Th-thank you." Launch stuttered, her mouth hung open. "That me-means a lot to me." She choked out, doing her best to work past her dry throat.

"HELP!" A voice called out. The duo of super heroes sprang up in surprise. Someone was in trouble. Running to where ever the voice came from, they pushed passed bushes and low hanging branches.

Two muggers, one a human and the other a Bear, held a man in a suit at gunpoint. Something was familiar about him to Yamcha. His eyes widened, it was that scarred guy he passed shortly after coming to Capsule Corp.

The business man, despite yelling for help, didn't seem too scared about his situation. He stood firm with his arms up, yet his face was stoic and uncaring. He looked a little bored actually.

The muggers chuckled, the Bear pressing the barrel of his pistol against the man's head. "Tuff luck, pal. Ain't nobody here to help ya." It said, having one of those old Cockney accents. The other mugger rolled his eyes, tapping his foot.

"Can we hurry it up? I wanna get outta here before the cops show up." He said, hands in his jacket pockets.

 **Pew**

The pistol in the Bear's paw was shot from it's claws, tapping against the ground a few yards away. The muggers' eyes widened, turning to the source of the shot. The human mugger was met with the sight of a shoe barreling into him. He was knocked to the ground, Yamcha standing over him.

The Bear turned to slash at the boy, but felt a fist slam into his chest. He stammered back, ready to roar in discomfort and pain. A swift chop to his temple stopped him cold, leaving the bear to fall back, out for the count. Yamcha grabbed the mugger's hood, pulling him up and tossing him into his bear friend.

"Thank you for that." Yamcha and the now present Launch turned to the businessman, who patted some dust off his suit and straightened his tie. "All I needed was a distraction. I am grateful it came so soon. Though I must say, you two seem a little young to be out so late."

"We're Heroes!" Yamcha chirped, holding a fist up high. Launch sweatdropped, but went along anyways. The man cocked an eyebrow, almost letting out a chuckle.

"Heroes? Well our city is getting a little too dangerous after dark, so the more hands to help, the better." He said, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out a phone. "What are your names, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm Ya-" Yamcha began, but Launch covered his mouth with her hand. After a second spent remembering their personas, he moved her hand. "I'm Lancer."

"And I'm Marilynn." Launch said, slipping her pistol into a holster on her hip.

"I'll be sure to spread the word that there are some Super Heroes on the scene. I'd recommend getting out of here as soon as you can, the police won't take kindly to a vigilante." The man chimed, flipping open his phone. Yamcha and Launch nodded, making their leave out of the park.

A session of sneaking later, they reached Capsule Corp. Hopping the fence, the sprinted to the wall and climbed up to Yamcha's room. Yamcha took off his glasses, resting them on the window sill.

The lamp flicked on, and to the duo's horror, Bulma sat on the bed, holding Puar's tail under a set of books.

"I-I'm sorry, Lord Yamcha! She came to see you, but I couldn't get her to leave!" Puar squealed.

"You have some explaining to do." Bulma said lowly. Yamcha felt his heart skip a beat in fear. His best Friend's glare bore into his soul.

"W-well, y-y-you see…" He began, tapping his fingers together. Launch muttered a swear, resisting the drive to face palm.

* * *

It took some explaining, convincing and a little bit of pleading from Yamcha to convince Bulma to not tell her parents. Begrudgingly, she agreed to not tell if Yamcha spent more time with her. She hadn't had much time to spend with him, what with school and Yamcha's training. Now to hear he was spending his nights with some other girl, that made her a little livid.

Launch would tag along only when Bulma allowed. The Briefs member didn't take much of a liking to her. She felt the Blonde's obsession with guns would be a bad influence on Yamcha. She didn't want him going back to being a bandit.

* * *

Another week passed, and before Yamcha knew it, it was his birthday. He never celebrated it, never feeling it was important enough. In the Desert, there had been no time for such things. Puar would still give him a "Happy Birthday" in the morning, but that was about as far as that went. So when the rest of the Briefs family and Launch (Bulma made Yamcha introduce her as a friend) joined him on his way to Roshi's, his confusion peeked.

As the Island came into view, Yamcha saw a white banner hung between two palm trees. He was able to make out parts of it, though his limited teaching from Bulma hadn't allowed him to be particularly good at reading.

'Happy Birthday, Yamcha!'

The Child sucked in a breath, confusion and surprise turning in his stomach. A birthday party. For him.

Roshi was throwing a cloth over a folding table, talking to another old guy Yamcha had never seen before. The man held what looked like a young toddler, who was grabbing for his hat.

The Briefs family touched down on the beach, with Bulma pulling Yamcha out, Puar and Launch following close behind. Dr. Briefs wiped his forehead of sweat, that car was a little too crowded. He'd have to get a larger one. He escorted his wife over to Roshi, who did his best to not stare. It was a big day for his pupil, so the least he could do was put his perverted side away for a day.

"Mr. and Mrs. Briefs." He said, shaking their hands. "Good to see you. I'd like you to meet my old pal Gohan." He motioned towards his friend, who let down the toddler to wander after the other children.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Doctor." He said, bowing.

"The pleasure is all mine. It's been too long, Gohan. How's that child treating you?" Briefs asked, sparing a glance to the child with a monkey tail. Hmmm, what a strange birth defect.

Yamcha, Puar, Bulma and Launch were setting the rules and safe zones for a game of tag. The porch was the designated safe zone.

"Gah gah…" They heard, before Yamcha felt a pressure on his leg. Looking down, see blinked at the toddler that seemed to want to climb him.

"Uh, hi there." He said, picking up the kid. The child wore a small gi, and his hair seemed to be naturally spiky.

"Aww, he's so cute!" Bulma gushed, gripping his balled hands against her chest. Her eyes were hearts now. Launch blinked at her, confused and a little annoyed.

"It's just some baby. Wait, that thing's got a tail!" She said, pointing at the furry tail protruding from the Toddler's rear. "The Hell's up with that?" Launch had never really tried to fix her foul attitude, despite Bulma's nagging. The Briefs' girl seemed to enjoy her blue haired saide more.

"Woah." Yamcha muttered, holding the boy up to look for himself. The kid giggled, enjoying the attention. "That's cool."

"I see you've met Goku." Yamcha turned his attention to Roshi's friend. "You must be Yamcha. Nice to meet you, I'm Gohan." He smiled, taking Goku and ruffling his hair. The Toddler laughed, before he started to nibble on Gohan's shirt sleeve. "Oh my, you must be hungry." He walked to the house, probably to find little Goku something to eat.

* * *

Yamcha blew out his candles, doing his best no to drool on the cake. It was a sight to behold. A spice cake with lemon frosting, topped with strawberries. He never had strawberries.

Everyone clapped for him, with Puar pulling at a birthday popper. Yamcha blushed under the praise, a little nervous about the crowd, but doing his best to ignore the feeling. Cake was passed out and quickly devoured. Soon, it was time for presents.

A yellow box was placed in front of the Birthday Boy, wrapped carefully in purple ribbon. It was from Roshi. Gohan didn't have a gift, but promised to find something next time.

Yamcha pulled at the ribbon, loosening and removing it. He pulled the lid off. It held a red gi, with the Turtle School symbol scrawled onto the back. "It's a custom gi I had made for you." Roshi began. "You've shown great improvement since you began training. This gi shows how far you've come."

"Th-thanks!" Yamcha chirped, rubbing his thumbs along the fabric. It was nice and soft. Placing it back into the box, he set it aside to put on later. He stood and gave a quick bow to his master, who gladly returned it.

Next, a blue box with green ribbon was shoved into his arms. Bulma wore a large grin, feeling prideful. "Time for the best present!" She announced, moving her fists to her hips. Yamcha opened it like the last one, carefully removing the top lid. It held a wood carving statue of a wolf, howling to the sky. "I saw this and thought you'd like it! Since wolves are your favorite animal, I knew it would be the best."

"This is great!" Yamcha said, turning the wolf in his hands. He was afraid of them, but he loved them nonetheless. He caught Bulma in a hug, which she happily returned. Panchy took a picture of the moment, happy to have a new piece for the scrapbook. "You're awesome!"

"I know." Bulma smiled smugly. They parted and it was time for Launches present.

"Thought you'd need this." She said, handing him a book. It ready "Reading for Dummies". Bulma glared at her, ready to go off on the child. "But seriously, I snagged these. Thought you might like them." Launch continued, holding up a large bag. Inside, a 'fake' sword was held in a sheath.

"Woah…" Yamcha muttered, pulling the sword out. It looked like that old sword he saw in some desert ruins. He had planned to go back for it, but that wouldn't be happening, at least for awhile. "Where did you…?"

"Someone I know makes these 'fake' swords as a hobby." Launch said, giving the quickest wink at the word 'fake'. "He owed me a favor, so I had him make this." She chose not to talk about where she knew the design from. The Briefs didn't need to know about the stories Yamcha told her. Bulma slumped back in her seat, satisfied with Launch's gift. Only the best for her friend.

Finally, it was time for Dr. Briefs and Panchy's gift. It was a small, rectangular box, laced in blue ribbon. It was easier to open due to its smaller size. Yamcha lifted to lid. Inside were three pieces of paper. He blinked at the slips, confused. "What's this?"

"They're tickets for a Baseball Game." Dr. Briefs said. "I thought we could go see one once you get back."

"What's Baseball?" Yamcha asked. Panchy gave him a warm smile.

"You'll see, Deary. I'm sure you'll love it." She chimed. Yamcha nodded, he believed her.

"Thanks, Dad… Er, I mean." He muttered, his face turning red. Bulma grinned smugly, knowing it would only be a matter of time before she would be calling her best friend her brother. Panchy giggled happily, while Launch and Roshi rolled their eyes. Briefs patted the boy on the shoulder, smiling kindly at him.

* * *

Word of the Super Duo of Lancer and Marilynn spread fast. Apparently, two people save the editor of a big newspaper company. He gave them thanks, telling of their courageous rescue mission. He made sure to keep out their age, of course. Why spoil the fun?

 **SMASH!**

A Werewolf man smashed through a bank window, a couple of empty bags in hand. He could take care of the cops when they showed up and if there were too many? He could break out the back and disappear into the sewer. And that hype about those heroes was nothing but paranoia bait.

Unfortunately, if anyone were around, they'll tell him of the red dot now lined on the back of his head.

 **BANG!**

The Wolfman flew forward, slamming into the front counter.

"Nice shot." Yamcha said, dropping down from a nearby ledge. He joined Launch, who cocked back the bolt on her sniper. Where she got these weapons were beyond him.

"Thanks, but he's not going down that easy. Werewolves only are affected by silver. Since we don't have any, we'll have to beat him down until he's out cold." Launch said, strapping the sniper to her backpack.

"Will do." Yamcha said, dashing into the bank. The Wolfman slugged to his feet, scratching his head.

"You bastards. That hurt." He growled, turning and slashing at Yamcha. The Hero ducked under the swing, countering with a kick. The Wolf blocked it with his knee. Yamcha jumped back to reangle himself, before jumping and kicking. The Wolf went to block it, but Yamcha was expecting it this time. Spinning in place, he axe kicked over the block, striking the Wolf's head.

The Wolf was about to strike, but a heep of lead to his chest stopped him dead. He staggered back as Launch pumped her shotgun. Yamcha touched down and shoulder tackled the beast. It was to little success, as the Wolf sidestepped and decked him in the cheek.

Launch grit her teeth as Yamcha soared into a chair, smashing it to bits. Glaring, she fired at the Wolf, who dodged. She fired again and again, just missing with each shot. The Wolf got closer with each dodge, and as the gun clicked, showing it was out, he stood over the child with a snarl.

 **SMASH!**

A wooden chair broke over the Beast's head, catching him off guard. A fist collided with his neck, forcing him to step back.

"You forget about me?" Yamcha snarked, running his fingers along the beast's chest. The shirt he wore gained four new slash marks. He tried to strike the child, but a bullet to his palm knocked it back to the floor. "We gotta hold him down till the police show up."

Launch looked around, surveying the scene for anything useful. "You know, this is usually for vampires…" She began, picking up a wooden chair leg. She turned to the wolf and jammed it into his elbow. Blood splattered the spike, a little dripping onto the floor. She repeated the process till the wolf was pinned down at all his joints. "But it should work either way."

"Good job!" Yamcha cheered, patting Launch's back. The sound of sirens alerted them that it was time to leave. Bolting from the scene, the duo made for Capsule Corp.

* * *

From her time helping the boy clean, Panchy found one thing she hated about Yamcha. His scars...

Ever since the first time she bathed him, she hated looking at them. A child should never have scars, especially as many as Yamcha does. The physical trophies of his battles littered his chest and back.

She remembered running her fingers across them, how the Child would shift about nervously, as if ashamed to have his marks seen. It damn near broke the mother's heart. Yamcha never wanted to talk about them or why he has them. He would say that it wasn't that important, that they would heal. But scars rarely heal. As of now, and probably for many years, they served as a reminder to his hardships in the desert.

Panchy also noted the nightmares he had, the times she heard him wake up screaming at night. He refused to acknowledge that either, avoiding the topic at all costs. They… had been recent actually, first starting a week after his birthday.

Puar seemed just as concerned, unable to get answers either. From what Panchy had been told by the cat, Yamcha dreamed about being left in the desert, whether for the first time or being dumped there by the Briefs.

Those words left her stomach in a knot. She wanted to scoop the boy up and tell him it would all be okay, that he had nothing to fear anymore. But she knew that was a bad idea. Yamcha needed to be the one to talk first, and when he was ready, her would be there, along with her husband and daughter.

That was what a family did, they would be there for each other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the short chapter, busy very busy over the last week.**

* * *

Dr. Briefs felt it was finally time Yamcha went and got an education. Now a month over six years old, the Desert child had never had the chance for a formal education, i.e. school. Bulma had done her best to teach him how to read, but a six year old could only do so much.

So here he was, on the school bus, clinging to Bulma. She was humming a song to herself, rubbing Yamcha's back to comfort him. Social anxiety was a crapshoot, wasn't it?

"Alright Yamcha, we're here." She said, feeling the bus come to a stop. The other kids got up and began filing out, eager to get the day over with. The blue haired Briefs led her best friend to the door, almost having to drag him to their first class.

"Alright everyone, settle down." The teacher said, pulling a clipboard from his desk and doing roll call. "Well class, we have a new student. Yamcha Briefs, if you would please stand up."

Yamcha blinked, looking over to Bulma. She gave a guilty shrug in return. "Sorry Yamcha. Using our last name was the only way to get you in." The Desert child gulped, giving a small nod and getting up from his seat.

"Young Yamcha came here from East City, so let's give him a nice welcome." The teacher said, motioning towards the new student. The other students gave a loud "HI YAMCHA!", making him blush. He sat back down, looking down at the table.

The first part of the school day passed by in a blur and soon it was time for gym. Yamcha stood in a line with the other boys in his class. To his dismay, Bulma had art and won't be there for him. He gave a small tug to his shirt collar, shifting on his soles.

"Welcome, kids. I hope you've had a nice weekend." The gym teacher cheered, scribbling down attendance on her clipboard. "Since our last course ended on Friday, this week I thought a sort of competitive course was in order." She said. "This week, I've set up a series of races and hurdles for you all to compete in. In ten minutes, we're going to have a high jump competition, so till then feel free to challenge your fellow students." She blew her whistle and the kids quickly dispersed, many immediately challenging their friends.

Yamcha looked around, wondering what he should do now. Maybe he could hide in a corner until it was time for his next class.

"Hey, you wanna race?" The Ex Bandit heard. Nervously turning around, he met the look of another kid. He had scruffy red hair and blue eyes that went well with his shark toothed grin.

"Umm… Okay." Yamcha muttered, tapping his fingers together. The other boy laughed.

"You're a shy one, ain't ya?" He chuckled, rubbing a finger under his nose. "Name's Susano, you're that new kid right? Yamcha was it?" He asked, crossing his arms.

Susano? That was a strange name. "Yeah, I-I'm Yamcha. Nice to meet you." Yamcha said, extending a hand like Bulma had told him to do when making introductions.

"Rad. Now come on, I wanna see what you can do." Susano said, grabbing Yamcha's hand and pulling him to the "Roundabout Run" starting line. There were a couple of kids there already, but when the Red Head cleared his throat, they were quick to make room. He told Yamcha what he would have to do. They would have to run across the gym, making sure to stay in the white lines, and touch the wall before running back.

"Geez, is Susano really making the new kid race?" One of the boys muttered, but due to Yamcha's improved hearing, he heard them.

"Woah, I know he's the best in the class, but does he have to embarrass the him like this?" Another student responded. A few students crowded around the duo, conversing with themselves. Most thought Susano would leave Yamcha in the dust.

"Alright, are you two ready?" The Gym teacher asked, raising a hand. The two nodded, getting into a ready stance. "Get set… GO!" She yelled, throwing her arm down like a flag.

The two kids sprang forward, making a made dash for the wall. The observers stood wide eyed, jaws dropping.

"No way…"

"He's fast!"

Yamcha had almost immediately made distance between them, putting his convoy chasing days to use. Running in the coarse sand of Diablo Desert made him quite fast and stable. He reached the wall before Susano had reached the halfway point. Taking a deep breath, Yamcha jumped up, flipping so his feet landed on the wall. He kicked off the wall, somersaulting in the air and dropping into a roll once he hit the floor. He pushed his foot against the floor, flying forward.

Collective cheers and chants of surprise and amazement filled Yamcha's ears. He wasn't a fan of the noise. Passing Susano, he saw a look of wonder on his face, that shark toothed grin still ever present.

Yamcha barreled past the finish line, skidding to a halt.

"The new kid is so cool!"

"Holy crap!"

"Dude, that was awesome!"

To Yamcha's misfortune, the students swarmed around him, cheering and flooding him with questions of how he did that. His throat went dry in nervousness. If only Puar or Bulma were here.

"Well I'll be damned, Yamcha. You're pretty good." Susano smirked as he pushed through the crowd.

"Susano, language!" The teacher scolded. The Red head scratched his head, giving a quick sorry.

* * *

After being challenged to almost all the races and hurdles by most of the other boys, Yamcha was finally free, all thanks to the bell. It was time for lunch. Susano joined him in getting his packed lunch, offering a seat at his table.

"S-sorry, but I want to sit with my friend." Yamcha declined, looking for Bulma. The Blue haired girl sat at a table near the far end of the cafeteria, chatting with a few other girls. Waving her down, he took a seat next to her.

"Hi Yamcha." Bulma greeted. "Are you enjoying school so far?"

"I don't know. It's a little crowded." He said, looking over the lunch room. He spotted Susano again, happily devouring a sandwich. "I made another friend I think."

"Really, who?" Bulma asked, scanning the room for her Best friend's new friend.

"His name is Susano." The Desert child said, pointing over to him. Bulma followed his line of sight, a small frown showing on her lips.

"Oh him…" She muttered.

"Is something wrong with him?" Yamcha asked.

"No, not really. It's just… he looks and acts like one of those shonen protagonists from the manga I see the other kids read." Bulma explained. "The weird hairstyle, his eating habits, he's over competitive. He can get on my nerves a lot."

"Oh…" Yamcha muttered, sinking into his chair a bit. "So should I not talk to him?"

"What? No." The Briefs' daughter shook her head. "I- just be ready for all his crap."

* * *

"Did you hear the World Tournament is coming up?" Launch asked, letting her feet grind against the dirt from her position on the swing. Yamcha and Puar's eyes lit up, to the dismay of Bulma.

"Oh no, nu-uh! I know what you two are thinking and it's not happening!" She growled, clenching her fists. Yamcha let his shoulders slouch, but didn't say anything.

"Why not, Bulma? Lord Yamcha's the strongest there is." Puar declared, standing proudly on her Lord's head. Launch put her hands on her hips, grinning at Bulma.

"What, you think he can't do it?" She smirked. The blue haired girl scowled.

"He is six years old! The strongest fighters from around the world will be there! He can only do so much!" She spat, grabbing onto Yamcha's hand and pulling him over to her. "I won't let my brother get turned to a pulp just because you two didn't think this through."

"But I'm not your brother, Bulma." Yamcha pointed out, oblivious to how heated the argument was. He rarely argued with Puar, and most of the time it was over who got the last bite of dinner. Was he supposed to argue this loudly with others…? Nah, that sounded annoying.

"Well y-yeah, I k-know. I just m-m-mean…" Bulma stuttered, realising her mistake. Yamcha isn't technically a Briefs yet. "You know what? Fine, go get yourself beat up! See if I care!" She yelled, turning and walking back into Capsule Corp.

"Did… Did I do something wrong?" Yamcha asked, ready to go after her. Launch shook her head, a tinge of regret turning in her stomach. So he wasn't used to these kinds of fights, huh?

"No you didn't. She's just looking out for you." She admitted begrudgingly. Dammit, kids were supposed to be dumb, she was supposed to be the exception! Yet here she was, friends with two kids that were smarter than her in different ways (Yamcha certainly didn't know as much as her, but he could fight with the best of them). "But that just means you gotta make her proud!" She smirked, knowing just how to turn this conflict. She wanted to see her idol fight for heck's sake! And she would get it!

"Okay!" Yamcha cheered, pumping a fist into the air.


	8. UPDATE

Hey everyone, Crimson Virus here.

It's been awhile, huh? Well I'd like to apologize for that. I don't really have an excuse except college and lack of a drive.

But onto what I want to announce:

Currently, this story will be undergoing a rewrite. Looking back now, I'm not very happy with how it turned out. a lot of it felt shoehorned and just bad.

So I want to serve this story justice. I'll be reworking various aspects of it, trying to keep what I felt worked and excluding what I didn't while adding onto the story as a whole.

I don't know when I'll be able to start writing for this story again, but I'm hoping for early January. Once that happens I'll try to shoot for a consistent schedule like in 2018.

Again I'm sorry for abandoning this site. I really enjoy writing but just didn't have the time for it all year.

My other stories are on hold except for maybe Crimson Calamity if my schedule works out.

Well everyone, I hope to see you all in 2020. Have a happy new year.


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